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THE 



Beautiful Way of Life 

PICTURES OF HAPPY HOMES AND GLIMPSES 
OF HEAVENLY MANSIONS, 

PORTRAYING 

THE HIGHEST IDEALS 



Society, Business, Home, Patriotism, Religion 



THE WAY TO SUCCESS AND HAPPINESS, 

WHOM TO MARRY, MAKING HOME HAPPY, TRAINING CHILDREN, MORAL 

OBLIGATIONS, SOCIAL DUTIES AND PLEASURES, PROSPERITY IN 

BUSINESS, A LIVE CHURCH, LOVE OF COUNTRY, DUTY 

TO GOD AND THE BEST PREPARATION FOR 

THE HOME BEYOND. 



Pearls of Philosophy from the Wisdom of Ages.' 
(Exquisitely Jllustvcttefc 

WITH MANY PULL-PAGE ENGRAVINGS. 



— BY THE — / 

REV. MADISON C. PETERS, 

ii 

AUTHOR OF 

"HOT SHOT," "EMPTY PEWS," "POPULAR SINS. 



PHILADELPHIA: 

EMPIRE PUBLISHING COMPANY, 

1890. 






Copyright, 1890, 

By F. OLDACH, Sr. 



PREFACE. 



TT seems to me that this book, The "Path of Glory: " From the Cradle 
to the Throne, tells its own story, and makes its purpose so clear, that 
no personal explanation from the author is necessary. Every phase of life 
is herein depicted, from infancy, as a Babe in the cradle, to its glorious 
ending, an Immortal Soul, a Saint among the white-robed throng around 
the Throne of God. These Aims and Aids to Success and Happiness, now 
and forever, are the experiences and maxims of the wisest and best, offered 
in the most novel and fascinating form. We have gathered "apples of 
gold," and set them in "pictures of silver." The no-name articles are either 
from the author's pen or anonymous. There is not a dull, drowsy, or dry 
line in the book. We do not stick, stutter, or stammer in telling the truth. 
Those who get vexed because their follies are aimed at, do so because they 
are shot. The woman broke the looking-glass because it showed the 
wrinkles in her face. If we can lead the reader to Success, Honor, and 
Happiness, in the Home, Moral, Social, Business, Political, Church, Spiritual, 
and Future Life ; if through this book you find your earthly life a Path of 
Glory, and at last an eternal resting-place beneath God's Throne, the 
author will consider himself well paid for his labor. 

M. C. P. 

September i 1889, 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



The Morning Visit to the New Home, Frontispiece 

Where Did You Come from, Baby, Dear? 17 

The Spoiled Boy, 29 

The Grandparents' Pet 69 

Vignette— The Moral Life, 103 

"We are Two Travellers, Roger and I," 141 

Vignette— The Social Life, 171 

All-Hallow Een, 195 

The Coquette = • 221 

Vignette— The Business Life, 241 

Awaiting Papa's Return, 267 

A Country Home 281 

Vignette — The National Life 311 

The Four Leaders of the First Crusade, 337 

The Battle of Bunker Hill, 361 

Vignette — The Church Life, 381 

Late for Church, 397 

The Gossips, 411 

Vignette— The Spiritual Life, 438 

Faith's Firm Foundation, 455 

The Guardian Angel, . 485 

Vignette — The Future Life 521 

Nothing Will Die, • • 5 6x 

Holy ! Holy ! Holy ! Lord God of Sabaoth 607 



IN BEX. 



THE HOME LIFE. 



The Baby, 19 

No Baby in the House, 20 

Choosing a Name, 21 

Children, 22 

Pure Air in the Children's Rooms, .... 23 

Brothers and Sisters, 24 

Teasing, 24 

Brothers and Sisters at Home, 25 

That Boy of Yours, 26 

Self-reliance, ". . . . 27 

The Spoiled Boy, 28 

What to Teach our Daughters, 31 

Honoring our Parents, 32 

Obey your Parents, 33 

Make your Mother Happy, 33 

Ingratitude, 35 

Don't be Ashamed of your Parents, ... 35 

A Word for Father, 36 

Motherhood, 37 

A Mother's L,ove, 38 

Woman's True Sphere, 39 

Nursing Fathers, 40 

A Word to Busy Fathers, 42 

Love, 43 

Courtship, 45 

Korting, 46 

The Whistle, 47 

Marriage, 47 

Bachelor's Hall, 49 

Old Bachelors, . . . t 50 

Old Maids, 51 

The Holiness of Marriage, 52 



Unequally Yoked Together, 52 

Advice to Girls, 53 

Elopement 54 

Avoid Matchmakers, 55 

A Maiden's Idea of a Husband, 56 

Two Essential Qualities, 57 

Visit the Old Home, 57 

Intermarriage, 58 

Good Housekeeping, 59 

The Beautiful Woman, 60 

The Professional Beauty, 61 

The Word "Wife," 62 

The Wife's Duty, 63 

The Honeymoon, 63 

Marriage not for All, 64 

Husbands Seldom Reform, 65 

A Woman's Question, . . . 65 

A Bride's Mother to the Bridegroom, ... 66 

How Can I Tell Her? 67 

The Helpful Wife, 68 

Be Lovable, 68 

Be Intelligent, 71 

The Good Wife, 71 

The Clinging Wife, 72 

Matrimonial Harmony, 73 

Godless Mothers 73 

Growing Together, 74 

Domestic Economy, 75 

The Word "Husband," 76 

Rules for the Husband, 76 

Gentlemen, Fulfil Your Contracts, .... 76 

The First Dispute, 78 



INDEX. 



A Woman's Complaint, 78 Music, 



95 



Advice to Young Married Couples, ... 79 

Fault Finding, 80 

Shafts at Random Sent, 82 

Good Manners at Home, 89 

A Home without Love, 90 

If We Could Know, 91 

Comfort one Another 92 

Chaste Language at Home, 93 

Our Own, 93 

Cheerful Homes, 94 



Singing at Home, 95 

Home Sweet Home, 96 

Home Songs, 97 

The Dearest Spot of Earth is Home, ... 97 

Home, 98 

Home Denned, 99 

Two Pictures, 100 

Religion at Home, 100 

Home the Sweetest Type of Heaven, . . . 101 



THE MORAL LIFE. 



God's Beverage, 105 

The Strongest Drink, 107 

Apostrophe on Water, 107 

The Destroyer, 108 

The Cause of Temperance, 109 

Shun the Bowl, Ill 

How Strong Drink Injures Labor, ... 112 

Strikes, 114 

Rum the Foe of Labor, 114 

The Saloon, 118 

The Drunkard's Daughter, 120 

Danger of Drink, 122 

Gambling Ruins at Last, 123 

The Story ©f a Judge's Son, 124 

America's Most Popular Sin, 125 

The Horrors of Cigarette Smoking, ... 128 

Opium, 129 

Stray Arrows from the Editor's Quiver, . . 130 

True Standard of Morality, 135 

Jelly Bag Readers, 135 

Characteristics of Grumblers, 136 

Enervating Influence of Novels, 136 

A Glass of Cold Water, 137 



Song of the Decanter, 138 

Charles Lamb to Young Men, 139 

An Eloquent Indictment, 139 

There's Danger in the Glass, 140 

Alcohol a Poison, 143 

What a Jug Did, 144 

Degradation of the Inebriate, 145 

The Vagabonds, 145 

How to Break the Chain, 149 

The Gambler's Wife 150 

Gambler's and Gambling, 152 

Evil Books and Evil Pictures, 158 

Habit, 160 

The Slavery of Sin, 160 

Tobacco, 161 

Genius no Excuse for Wrong-Doing, . . . 163 

The Grumbler, 164 

Young Girls and their Temptations, . . . 164 

The Duty of Self-Respect 167 

The Habit of Borrowing, 168 

The Training of Youth, 169 

The Saving Habit, 170 



INDEX. 



THE SOCIAL LIFE. 



Woman, 173 

Woman's Mission, 174 

The Elevation of Woman, 176 

Be a Woman, 182 

How Home is Destroyed, 183 

Divorce, 185 

The Physical Education of Woman, . . . 207 

Heartlessness of Fashion, 209 

Woman and Dress, 210 

Self-Culture, 210 

The Model Woman, 211 

Debt, 211 

Sweetness of Manners, 213 

Saying Rude Things, 213 

If We Knew, 213 

True Politeness, 215 

Books, 215 

Origin of Scandal, 215 

The Bizzy Body, 207 

Intemperance in Talking, 218 



Force of Character, 188 

The Workingwoman's Cry of Despair, . . 189 

The Science of Self-Support, 192 

The Dance, 199 

Fashion — Right and Wrong, 203 

Trifles, 207 

Flattery and Churlishness, 220 

Envy and Jealousy, 223 

True Friendship, 224 

The Cynic, 225 

Rdcipe' for a Modern Novel, 226 

The Novel, 226 

Our Barbarous Funeral Customs, 227 

Chips from the Editor's Work-Shop, ... 228 

The Virtue and Vice of Pride, 235 

Borrowed Troubles, 236 

What of That, 237 

New Every Morning, 237 

Growing Old Gracefully, 238 



THE BUSINESS LIFE. 



Leaving Home, 243 

Write Them a Letter To-Night, 244 

The Right Vocation, 245 

Getting the Right Start, 246 

The Spirit of Work, 249 

Aim and Object in Life 251 

The Jack of all Trades, 252 

Concentration, 254 

Success of Young Men, 254 

Poor Boys and Great Eminence, 255 

Bruce and the Spider, 257 



Going to the City, 259 

Tact and Talent, 261 

Industry the Only True Source of Wealth, 262 

Advice to Young Men, 263 

The Epoch of Elevators, 264 

Winning Forces in Life, 265 

There's Always a River to Cross, 270 

Enthusiasm, 272 

How to do to Get Along, 275 

Look to the Littles, 276 

Little Things, 276 



INDEX. 



Self-Reliance, 278 

Punctuality, 279 

The Witchery of Manner, 280 

How to Succeed, 283 

Determination — Its Strength and Weakness, 285 

Perseverance, ' 286 

Luck, 287 

Common-Sense Education, 289 

Be Progressive, 290 

Lying, 290 

The Light of Knowledge, 291 

Never Despair, 292 

Nothing Beautiful Dies, 293 

Where There's a Will There's a Way, . . 293 

Improve Your Opportunities, 293 

Ideas and Principles, 294 

Use the Gifts God has Given, 294 



Procrastination the Thief of Time, .... 294 

Dare to do Right, 295 

Do Right because it is Right, 295 

How Regulus Kept His Word, 296 

Industry and Frugality, 296 

Stick to Your Last 296 

What is Being Independent, 297 

Wealth not Always Success, 297 

Riches not to be Envied, 397 

Wanted— Men! 298 

Sharp Dealing and Distrust, 298 

The Use of Riches, 299 

The Misuse of Wealth, 300 

How to Become a Millionaire, 302 

The Immortality of Influence, 303 

Love vs. Glory, 303 

Counterfeit Success, 304 



THE NATIONAL LIFE. 



What Constitutes a State, . 313 

The Destiny of America, 314 

America, 315 

The Ship of State, 316 

The Memory of Washington, 317 

Union and Liberty, 318 

The Demagogue, 319 

The Party Man, 320 

Patriotism, 321 

The American Flag, 321 

The Men to Make a State, 323 

Friday is Not Unlucky, 326 

Washington's Address to His Troops before 

the Battle of Long Island, 326 



Landing of the Pilgrims, 327 

The American Eagle, 328 

Mortality Among Nations, 329 

A Pure Ballot, 330 

The Better Way, 332 

An Ideal American, 333 

Safeguards of Nations, 334 

The Crusade, 334 

European and American Civilization, ... 335 

Retribution, 340 

American Aristocracy, 340 

The Pilgrim Fathers, 341 

Labor and Wages, 342 

The Industrial Problem, 344 



INDEX. 



Encouraging Zeal, 346 

Memorial Patriotism, 346 

A Surrender Demanded, 347 

Republic Presaged 347 

Vow of Gratitude, 348 

The Liberty Tree Song, 348 

An Appeal to Ladies, 349 

The Pennsylvania Song, 350 

The Faith of Franklin and Jefferson, . . . 351 

Washington's Vow, 353 

Massa Linkum, 355 

Virtuous Loyalty 356 

The Honored State, 357 

Danger from Intemperance to Our Political 

Institutions, 357 

Heroism, 358 

Public Patriotism, 358 

Generous Politics, 359 

Lydia Darrah's Patriotism, 359 

Honorable Recompense, 359 

The New South, 360 

Bribery Resented, 367 



Naturalized Citizens, 367 

Economical Government, 368 

Unselfish Patriotism, 368 

A Century's Progress, 368 

One of Washington's Letters, 369 

The Good Old Times, 370 

Office Seekers, 371 

Patriotism of Young Men, 371 

An Unequal Warfare, 372 

Our Origin and Future, 372 

Beginning of the American Revolution, . 374 

Old Families, 375 

Personal Liberty and the Sabbath, .... 375 

The Fountain of Youth 378 

Marriage and the State, 378 

Grant's Aversion to War, 379 

The Growth of Opinion, 379 

National Patriotism, 379 

The Security of the State, 379 

Lafayette on America's Future, 380 

Protection by Education, 380 

The Stamp Act, 380 



THE CHURCH LIFE. 



The Model Church, 383 

Church not a Charity, 384 

The Word ".Orthodox," 386 

John Junkin's Sermon, 387 

Aggressive Christianity, 389 

Appeal to a Sexton, 390 

Encouragement, 392 

The Blessedness of Giving, 393 



The Church Must Stay Among the Poor, . 394 

The Penny Ye Meant to Gie, 395 

On Toleration 39 6 

Pulpit Oratory, 399 

The Destitute Children, 400 

Never Speak 111 of Anyone, 401 

I Must Keep My People, 4 02 

A Wrong Sort of Charity, 403 



INDEX. 



Use Short Words, 404 

Table Prayer, 404 

The Hypocrites, 405 

Lazy Christians, 405 

Look at the Preacher, 406 

Objectors, 406 

The Sensitive Man, 406 

Progress of Christianity, 407 

Foreign Missions' Pay, 408 

Who's to Blame ? 408 

Revivals, 409 

Things Unlike a Christian, 410 

The Deacon's Prayer, 410 

Right Makes Might, 414 

True Glory 415 

Success in Failure, 416 

Indian Apologue, 417 

Church Hospitality 418 

Reverie in Church, 418 



Be Sociable, 420 

Bad Manners in Churches, .421 

My Creed, 421 

Church Rounders, 422 

Love for Souls, 423 

Theology in Quarters, 424 

Singing in Church, 425 

A Word With Mrs. Grundy, 426 

The Dear Little Heads in the Pen, .... 427 

Work for All, 428 

No Time for Idleness, 430 

Wanted— A Minister's Wife, 430 

Getting Rid of the Pastor, 431 

Your Mission, 432 

Liberalism, 433 

The Different Denominations 434 

A General Engagement, 435 

The Church of the Future 436 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 



The Thought of God, 439 

Holy and Reverend, 440 

Goodness and Greatness of God, 440 

A Christmas Carol, 440 

The Ideal Man, 441 

The Character of Christ 443 

The Bible, 445 

Faith, 446 

The Necessity of Faith, 446 

Believing on Christ, 448 



Faith 449 

Christian Faith, 452 

The Soul's Cry, 452 

The Pharisee and Publican, 453 

The Widow's Mites, 453 

Christianity, 454 

The Sabbath, 454 

Sin 457 

Consequence of the Fall, 458 

Hearts, 458 



INDEX. 



13 



Fable for the Moralist, 459 

Quartz Crystal and Acorns, 459 

Ruin of Neglect, 460 

Money Decision, 461 

Faithful Guide, 462 

The Gospel Call, 463 

Now, 463 

Life in Christ, 464 

The Story of Laddie, 464 

An Earnest Plea, 466 

Faith and Hope, 467 

Training the Faith, 467 

The Power of Prayer, 468 

Prayer, 469 

Always in Prayer, 469 

False Worship, 470 

The Altered Motto, 470 

Influence of Forgiveness, 471 

Reasons for Forgiveness 471 

Power of Forgiveness, 471 

Why I Believe in the Bible, 472 

Books of the Bible in Verse, 473 

My Mother's Bible, 474 

Religious Certainty, 475 

The Way, : 476 

A Holy Life, 477 

Conversion of Children, 477 

What are You Doing ? 477 

The Ministry of Jesus, 478 

Be Uncompromising, 478 

The Mysterious, 479 

Bind up the Broken Hearted, 480 



Art Thou Weary, 480 

Divine Greatness, , 481 

If I Should Die To-night, 481 

The Star of Bethlehem, 482 

The Gospel an Anthem, 483 

What Love Is, 484 

The Spiritual Life, 487 

Sins of Omission, 488 

Revenge, 489 

I Do not Ask, O Lord, 489 

Are You Alive, 490 

Abide with Me, 491 

Personal Influence, 492 

A Chapter for Men, 492 

A Son Saint, 493 

A Well-Built Life, 493 

The Right Must Win, 494 

The Christian's Addition Table, 495 

Security in Temptation, 498 

The Feet of the Priest Stood Firm, ... 500 

Power of Influence, 501 

Ten Thousand Times Ten Thousand, . . . 501 

Gathered Fragments, 502 

Religion and Temper, 504 

The Most Troublesome Man in Church, . . 505 

Chronic Objectors 505 

Work and Don't Talk, 505 

Taking Cheerful Views, 507 

The Sufficiency of Christ to Render us 

Happy 512 

The Duty of Joyfulness, 514 

A Green Old Age, 515 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 



Resignation, 523 

Sunshine for the Sorrowing 524 

The Inquiry, 526 

Immortality, 527 

In Trial, 528 



Hymns of Heaven, 529 

God's Acre, 530 

The Rest of the Just, 530 

A Psalm of Life, 531 

The Resurrection, 533 



14 



INDEX. 



Beyond, 533 

Beyond the Grave, 535 

Forever with the Lord, 535 

Jerusalem my Happy Home, 536 

Departure of Friends, 537 

Paradise, 538 

The Hour of Rest, 538 

Is Death the Fnd, 539 

The Peace for Consolation, 541 

Pass Under the Rod, 542 

Lux Benigna, 544 

Nearer Heaven, 544 

The Rainy Day, 545 

Dimensions of Heaven, 545 

Duration of Heaven, 546 

Ideas of Heaven, 546 

Activity in Heaven, 547 

Employments in Heaven, 547 

The Celestial Art Gallery, 548 

The White-Robed Choir, 548 

Figures of Heaven, , 549 

A Home in Heaven, 550 

Hill Tops of Heaven, 551 

Homeward Bound, 551 

Death and the Future Worlds 552 

Heaven Beyond, 552 

Heaven a City, 553 

Nearness of Heaven, 553 

The Land of Beulah, 554 

Gain of Dying, 555 

Attraction of Heaven, 555 

Apples of Gold in Pictures of Silver, . . . 556 

The Longing for Immortality, 556 

Not the Speculations of Genius, 557 

A Silver Light for Every Cloud, 557 

Harder to Live than to Die, 557 

Best of All, 558 

Activity in Heaven, 558 

Higher, Higher 558 

The Path of Sorrow, 559 

Growth in Heaven, 559 

How to Live, 559 



The Voice of Nature, 560 

We Miss Them, 560 

Parted, Not Lost, 560 

The Use of Afflictions, 560 

The Home of Perfect Rest, 563 

Don't Wish Them Back, 563 

Only Sleeping, 563 

The Joy in Sorrow, 564 

The Sainted Watchers, 564 

The Rose without a Thorn, 565 

Sweet Converse, . . . , 565 

Separation Not Forever, 565 

The Benefits of Trial, 566 

Trials Blessings, 566 

Glimpses into Glory, 567 

Three Wonders, 567 

Three Unchangeables, 568 

Reason and Immortality, 568 

Annihilation Horrible, 568 

Heavenly Foretaste, 569 

Through the Curtain, 571 

Shall We Know Each Other There, ... 571 

Heavenly Recognition, 572 

Departed Friends, 573 

Weep Not for the Dead, .' 575 

No Sorrow There, 575 

Errands of Love, 576 

My Boy, 576 

Not Lost but Gone Before, 577 

Love Indestructible, 578 

Saints Will Dwell Together, 578 

No Cause for Woe, 579 

When Shall We Meet Again, 579 

Farewell, Beloved, Farewell, 580 

Sleep On, Babe, 580 

Where Your Babe Is, 581 

Jerusalem Above, 582 

How the Gates Came Ajar, 583 

Death Not an Enemy, 584 

Death a Leveller, 584 

Tell if Thou Knowest, 585 

There is a Silver Lining to Every Cloud . 585 



INDEX. 



15 



Revelation and Immortality, 587 

Weary, 587 

Weep no More, 588 

As God Pleases, % 588 

Heaven a Home for Death, 588 

A Preparation on Preparation, 591 

Sweet to Die, 591 

Friendship Perpetual, 591 

Heaven Not Far Away, 592 

The Mother and Her Dying Boy, .... 593 

Changed, 594 



Heavenly Recognition, 595 

Reunion Above, 596 

Our First Born, 596 

Gone, but Not Lost, 597 

A Mother's Lament, 597 

The Sainted Dead, 598 

Earthly Love Never Dies, ........ 601 

Knowledge of Each Other in Heaven, . . 602 

An Indian Mother's Love, 603 

Not an Airy Speculation, 603 

Reunion in Heaven, 605 








" Where did ymi cdttie frnm, Baby, dear ? 



The Path of Glory. 



THE HOME LIFE 



THE BABY. 



W 



HERE did you come from, baby dear ? 
Out of the everywhere into the here. 

Where did you get your eyes so blue ? 
Out of the sky as I came through. 

What makes the light in them sparkle and spin ? 
Some of the starry spikes left in. 

Where did you get that little tear ? 
I found it waiting when I got here. 

What makes your forehead so smooth and high ? 
A soft hand stroked it as I went by. 

What makes your cheek like a warm white rose ? 
Something better than anyone knows. 

Whence that three-cornered smile of bliss ? 
Three angels gave me at once a kiss. 

Where did you get that pearly ear ? 
God spoke, and it came out to hear. 

Where did you get those arms and hands ? 
Love made itself into hooks and bands. 

Feet, whence did you come, you darling things ? 
From the same box as the cherubs' wings. 

How did they all just come to be you ? 
God thought about me, and so I grew. 

But how did you come to us, you dear ? 
God thought of you, and so I am here. 

— George Macdonald. 



THE HOME LIFE. 



THE BABY. 

A BABY can beat any alarm-clock ever invented for waking a family up 
in the morning. 

Give it a chance and it can smash more dishes than the most 
industrious servant-girl in the country. 

It can fall down oftener and with less provocation than the most 
expert tumbler in the circus ring. 

It can make more genuine fuss over a simple brass pin than its 
mother would over a broken back. 

It can choke itself black in the face with greater ease than the most 
accomplished wretch that ever was executed. 

It can keep a family in constant turmoil from morning till night and 
from night till morning without once varying its tune. 

It can be relied upon to sleep peacefully all day when its father is 
away at business and cry persistently at night when he is particularly 
sleepy. 

It may be the naughtiest, dirtiest, ugliest, most fretful baby in all the 
world, but you can never make its mother believe it, and you had better 
not try. 

It can be a charming and model infant when no one is around, but 
when visitors are present it can exhibit more temper than both its parents 
together. 

It can brighten up a house better than all the furniture ever made, 
make sweeter music than the finest orchestra organized, fill a larger place 
in its parents' breasts than they knew they had, and when it goes away it 
can cause a greater vacancy, leave a greater blank, than all the world put 
together. — A nonymous. 



N 



NO BABY IN THE HOUSE. 

O baby in the house, I know, 

'Tis far too nice and clean. 
No toys, by careless fingers strewn, 

Upon the floors are seen. 
No finger-marks are on the panes, 

No scratches on the chairs ; 
No wooden men set up in rows, 

Or marshalled off in pairs ; 
No little stockings to be darned, 

All ragged at the toes ; 



THE HOME LIFE. 



No pile of mending to be done, 

Made up of baby-clothes ; 
No little troubles to be soothed ; 

No little hands to fold ; 
No grimy fingers to be washed ; 

No stories to be told ; 
No tender kisses to be given ; 

No nicknames, "Dove," and "Mouse;" 
No merry frolics after tea — 

No baby in the house. 

— Clara G. Dolliver* 



CHOOSING A NAME. 

[HAVE got a new-born sister ; 
I was nigh the first that kissed her. 
When the nursing-woman brought her 
To papa, his infant daughter, 
How papa's dear eyes did glisten ! 
She will shortly be to christen ; 
And papa has made the offer, 
I shall have the naming of her. 
Now I wonder what would please her, 
Charlotte, Julia, or Louisa ? 
Ann and Mary, they're too common ; 
Joan's too formal for a woman ; 
Jane's a prettier name beside ; 
But we had a Jane that died. 
They would say if 'twas Rebecca, 
That she was a little Quaker. 
Edith's pretty, but that looks 
Better in old English books ; 
Ellen's left oft long ago ; 
Blanche is out of fashion now. 
None that I have named as yet 
Are as good as Margaret. 
Emily is neat and fine ; 
What do you think of Caroline ? 
How I'm puzzled and perplexed 
What to chose or think of next ! 



THE HOME LIFE. 



I am in a little fever 
Lest the name that I should give her 
Should disgrace her or defame her ; — 
I will leave papa to name her. 

— Mary Lamb. 



CHILDREN. 



i( \liTHAT the women leave unfinished in our moral education," says 
V V Goethe, " the children complete in us," and I believe with Oliver 
Wendell Holmes that many of the noblest and most beautiful traits of a 
man's character are left undeveloped and unperfected, until he knows what 
it is to have a little child look up in his face and say " Father." If this he 
true of man it is even more true of woman. She is undeveloped and 
unperfected, until she knows what it is to have a little child look up in her 
face and say "Mother." 

Children " are the poetry of the world, beams of light, fountains of 
love, fresh flowers of hearths and homes." They are the salt of the earth, 
without which it would have no savour. 

" If children were not in the world, 
But only men and women grown ; 
No baby locks in tendrils curled, 
No baby blossoms blown ; 

Though men were stronger, women fairer, 

And nearer all delights in reach, 
And verse and music uttered rarer, 

Tones of more godlike speech ; 

Though the utmost life of life's best hours 

Found, as it can not now find, words ; 
Though desert sands were sweet as flowers, 

And flowers could sing like birds ; 

But children never heard them, never 

They felt a child's foot leap and run ; 
This were a drearier star than ever 

Yet looked upon the sun." 

Children are "incarnations of the smile of God." 

"Children are God's apostles, day by day 
Sent forth to preach of love, of hope, of peace." 



THE HOME LIFE. 23 



The children bring benedictions from heaven when they come, and 
while they stay they are perpetual benedictions. 

" Ah ! what would the world be to us 
If the children were no more ? 
We should dread the desert behind us 
Worse than the dark before. 



What the leaves are to the forest, 
With light and air for food, 

Ere their sweet and tender juices 
Have been hardened into wood,- 

That to the world are children, 
Through them it feels the glow 

Of a brighter and sunnier climate 
Than reaches the trunks below." 



PURE AIR IN CHILDREN'S ROOMS. 

TOO much attention cannot be bestowed on children's sleeping-rooms, 
especially in the matter of pure air and sunlight. It is, above all, 
important to prevent foul and steamy vapors from the kitchen and laundry, 
damp emanations from the cellar, and the impurities from gas and other 
lights from concentrating there. Some means of ventilation are indispens- 
able in every dwelling to prevent the rising of impure atmosphere toward 
the roof. Shut off the children's bed-rooms from the rest of the house, and 
open a window somewhere near for the escape of the impure air. 

An alarming practice, and one altogether too prevalent, is the 
burning of lamps in children's bed-chambers, and this, too, all night with 
closed windows. Now, it should be known that the flame of a lamp con- 
sumes the vitalizing portions of the air, and that a room in which a light 
has been burning for hours is not fit for sleeping in. In addition to this 
evil, a burning lamp produces another, and that is, restless slumber, as the 
light causes the brain to respond even through the closed eyelids, and thus 
make an effort which should be avoided. Teach children to sleep in the 
dark, by all means. They must, of course, be prepared for bed by lamp 
light in winter, but the room may be constantly purified after the lamp is 
extinguished by opening the windows and doors and letting in fresh, 
cool air. 

Teach a child also, that it is just as safe from all harm in the dark as 



24 THE HOME LIFE. 



in the light, and that it will be healthier, and happier, and it will believe it, 
because children have inexhaustible faith in the mother's word. Never 
allow any one to tell children fear-inspiring, hobgoblin stories, and don't 
punish them by sending them or threatening to put them in dark places ; 
thus you will be enabled easily to train them to sleep in the dark. 



o 



N parent's knees, a naked, new-born child, 

Weeping thou sat'st when all around thee smiled : 
So live, that, sinking in thy last long sleep, 
Thou then mayst smile while all around thee weep. 

— From the Chinese. 



B 



BROTHERS AND SISTERS. 

E kind to thy brother ; his heart will have dearth 

If the smiles of thy joy be withdrawn ; 
The flowers of feeling will fade at the birth, 

If love and affection be gone. 
Be kind to thy brother ; wherever you are ; 

The love of a brother shall be 
An ornament purer and richer, by far, 

Than pearls from the depths of the sea. 

Be kind to thy sister ! not many may know 

The depth of true sisterly love ; 
The wealth of the ocean lies fathoms below 

The surface that sparkles above ; 
Thy kindness shall bring to thee many sweet hours, 

And blessings thy pathway shall crown ; 
Affection shall weave thee a garland of flowers, 

More precious than wealth or renown. 

— Anonymous. 



TEASING. 



BROTHERS and sisters do not consider it any harm to tease. That spirit 
abroad in the family is one of the meanest and most devilish. There 
is a teasing that is pleasurable, and is only another form of innocent 
raillery, but that which provokes, and irritates, and makes the eye flash 
with anger, is to be reprehended. It would be less blameworthy to take 



THE HOME LIFE. 25 



a bunch of thorns and draw them across your sister's cheek, or to take 
a knife and draw its sharp edge across your brother's hand till the blood 
spurts, for that would damage only the body, but teasing is the thorn and 
the knife, scratching and lacerating the disposition and the soul. It is the 
curse of innumerable households that the brothers tease the sisters, and 
the sisters the brothers. Sometimes it is the color of the hair, or the shape 
of the features, or an affair of the heart. Sometimes it is by revealing a 
secret, or by a suggestive look, or a guffaw, or an "Ahem!" Tease! 
Tease ! Tease ! For God's sake quit it. — Wedding Ring. 



BROTHERS AND SISTERS AT HOME. 

WHAT should be the home intercourse of brothers and sisters ? What 
should they do toward the home life? How should they live 
together ? These questions may be answered in general by saying that a 
close and tender friendship should exist between them. This sounds like 
a very commonplace remark. Of course brothers and sisters should be 
friends, and should live together in an intimate relationship as friends. No 
one denies it. But do we universally find this warm, loving and tender 
friendship where there are young people in the house? We often find 
strong ties and attachments, mutual affection and interest, and much that 
is very beautiful ; but when we come closer and look for friendship in the 
true sense it is wanting. The brothers and sisters may love one another 
very truly, but they seek their friends outside the home. They go outside 
for warm sympathy, for close intimacy, for confidential companionship. 

It is not hard to find reasons for this. Living always together and 
knowing one another from infancy, members of the same family are apt to 
grow uninteresting to one another. The sameness of the society, day after 
day, takes away its freshness. The common life which they lead under the 
same roof, with the same pursuits, the same topics for conversation, the 
same incidents and experiences, the same hopes and fears, the same joys 
and sorrows, the same books, the same social life, render it difficult for the 
members of a household to impress one another in continual repetition 
and ever freshly kindle inspiration and emotions the one in the other, as 
friends from other homes can do. 

Home ties must be cultivated. 

The fact that it is home and that the ties are natural and thought to 
be secure ; that the members are sure of each other without making any 
effort to win confidence and regard ; that love between them is a matter of 
course, as if by nature, without winning it or cherishing it or troubling 
themselves to keep it — these are some of the causes for the absence of real 



Z6 THE HOME LIFE. 



friendship among brothers and sisters. They imagine that family affection 
is a sort of instinct, not subject to the laws which control other affections ; 
that it does not need to be sought or gained or won, as affection must be in 
others, by giving affection in return, and by the countless little tendernesses 
and thoughtfulnesses which are shown to others whom they desire to win. 
They forget that the principle, " He that hath friends must show himself 
friendly," applies in the family just as well as outside of it. 

They forget that friendship anywhere must be cherished or it will 
die ; that coldness and indifference will cause it to wither as the flowers of 
summer killed by the drought. They imagine, in a word, that the love of 
the family is so sure that it needs no care, no pains to keep it. Friendships 
in the family require care and culture as other friendships. We must win 
the love of those inside the home just as we win the love of those outside. 
We must prove ourselves worthy ; we must show ourselves unselfish, self- 
forgetful, thoughtful, kind, tender, patient, helpful. Then, when we have 
won each other, we must keep the treasures of affection and confidence, 
just as we do in the case of friends not in the sacred circle of home. 

If we have a friend whom we respect and prize very highly, we all 
know at what pains we are to retain this friend. We try to prune from our 
own character anything that would displease our friend. We cultivate 
assiduously those qualities of heart and life which he admires. We watch 
for opportunities to do kindnesses and show favors. We guard against 
whatever would wound or cause pain. We give our confidence, we trust 
our friend and prove our affection in countless ways. Let no one suppose 
that home friendships can be won and kept in any other way. We must 
live for each other. We must gain each other's heart. We must cherish 
friendship, or it will not grow. We must watch our words and conduct. 
We must seek to please, and never wound or grieve. We must deny self 
and live for another. We must confide in one another. We must cultivate 
all that is beautiful, holy and true. Friendships in our home, to be true 
and heart-satisfying, must be formed by the patient knitting of soul to- 
soul and the growing of life into life. — Home-Making. 



THAT BOY OF YOURS. 

TEACH your boy to be accurate. If he be not taught accuracy in child- 
hood, he will never learn it in his manhood. Teach him to speak 
accurately on all subjects, and he will scorn to tell a lie. 

Teach your boy the valuable lesson of consideration for the feelings 
of others. Teach him to disdain revenge. Impress him with this beautiful 
sentiment: "Write injuries in dust, but kindnesses in marble." 



THE HOME LIFE. 27 



Let your boy be boyish. A mannish boy, a boy who is a man before 
his time, is a disagreeable object. 

I never take any stock in the so-called "good boys" — boys who never 
get into mischief. It is a good thing if they die young, for they generally 
turn out bad as men. 

Early instil into your boy's mind decision of character. The unde- 
cided boy is sure to become a namby-pamby man. He will be as Dryden 
says : 

" Everything by starts and nothing long." 

Teach your boy courtesy. "Manners make the man," says the 
proverb. True politeness is rapidly becoming, in this country, one of the 
"lost arts." 

Do not give your boy expensive notions. Bring him up to be simple 
in his habits and pleasures. 

Teach your boy to look upon labor as a real dignity, and idleness as 
a disgrace. 

Teach your boy to be open and frank. If he has carelessly broken 
anything, and takes the full blame upon himself, and makes no excuses 
about it, don't punish him, but commend him for his honesty, and he will 
grow up every inch a man. 

Teach your boy to be strictly honest in all his dealings with his 
brothers and sisters. If he disregard their rights he will grow up to dis- 
regard the rights of men. "As the twig is bent the tree inclines." 

Put your boy on his honor. Trust his honor. Nothing will improve 
his character more. The boy that always requires looking after is in 
danger. 

.Be your boy's companion; treat him as a gentleman ; and if such 
treatment does not make him a gentleman, nothing else will. 

Teach your boy that the best whisky-sling is to sling the bottle or 
the concealed jug out of the window, and that the best throw of the dice is 
to throw the dice away. 

Teach your boy not to despise little things. Life is made up of 
little things. The " little things " in the aggregate make up whatever is 
great. Look to the littles. If we make the little events of life beautiful 
and good, then will the whole life be full of beauty and goodness. 



SELF-RELIANCE. 

TEACH your boy to be self-reliant. "Ability and necessity dwell near 
each other," said Pythagoras. Let your boy learn no other language 
but this : " You have your own way to make, and it depends upon your own 



28 THE HOME LIFE. 



exertion whether you sink or swim, survive or perish." The wisest charity- 
is to help a boy to help himself. 

Teach your boy that there is no such thing as "luck." Good pluck 
is good luck. Whole-hearted energy crowns men with honors. 

The word " can't " ought not to be found in your boy's vocabulary. 
Teach him stick-to-it-ness. Don't flinch. Never fly the track. Hold on; 
hold fast ; hold out. 

Teach your boy that the use of tobacco is a filthy, costly and 
unhealthy habit. The boy with a cigar in his mouth, a swagger in his 
walk, impudence on his face, a care-for-nothingness in his manner, older than 
his father (judging from his demeanor), is going too fast. Stop him, 
father ; stop him ! The chances are ten to one that in a dishonored grave 
will soon lie the buried hopes of a father, the joys of a mother's heart, and 
the pride of sisters fair. 

Teach your boy that if he does not wish to be a nobody, or something 
much worse than a nobody, he must guard his youth. 

Never permit your boy to associate with your neighbors' badly- 
managed boys. " He who goes with wolves soon learns to howl." A boy 
readily copies all that he sees done, good or bad. A boy's temper and 
habits will be formed on a model of those with whom he associates. 

Above all, bring up that boy of yours in " the nurture and admonition 
of the Lord." The only way to bring him up in the way of the Lord is for 
you to walk in that way yourself. Let yours, then, be the religious home, 
and God's blessings will descend upon it. Your children shall be like 
"olive plants around your table" — the "heritage of the Lord." It will give 
to the boy's soul its "perfect flowering," and make it "lustrous in the livery 
of divine knowledge." — Empty Pews. 



THE SPOILED BOY. 

THE worst injury anyone can inflict on society is to pet and spoil their 
children in such a way that when they grow up the world will regret 
that they did not die in infancy. A mother allows her boy to " answer her 
back," and treat her rudely. Years after she has gone to her account, 
another person will reap the bitter harvest of her weakness. The spoiled 
son will have taken to himself a wife, whom he treats in the same rude 
manner that he was permitted to adopt towards his mother. A spoiled boy 
may possibly become a worthy, religious man, but the effect of his having 
been spoiled will be seen in the large amount of dross that will overlie the 
gold. He will be ill-mannered, over-bearing, selfish, and generally disagree- 




"The Spoiled Bay," 



THE HOME LIFE. 31 

able. Mothers ! you can prevent this. When a boy is given to you accept 
him, not as a plaything merely, but as a most sacred trust — a talent to be 
put to the best account. Teach him to hate cruelty, to take the part of the 
weak, to recognize the special gentleness and respectful consideration due 
to a woman, particularly to his mother and sisters. In this way you may, 
by the grace of God, prevent your pets from ever becoming pests. 



Tommy (who had just received a severe scolding) — " Am I really so 
bad, mamma ? " 

Mamma — " Yes, Tommy, you are a very bad boy." 

Tommy (reflectively) — " Well, anyway, mamma, I think you ought to 
be real glad I'm not twins." — Five Talents of Woman. 



WHAT TO TEACH OUR DAUGHTERS. 

TEACH them to make bread. 
Teach them to make shirts. 

Teach them to foot up store bills. 

Teach them not to wear false hair. 

Teach them to wear thick, warm shoes. 

Teach them how to wash and iron clothes. 

Teach them how to make their own dresses. 

Teach them that a dollar is only a hundred cents. 

Teach them how to cook a good meal of victuals. 

Teach them how to darn stockings and sew on buttons. 

Teach them dry, hard, practical, every-day common sense. 

Teach them to wear calico dresses, and do it like queens. 

Give them a good, substantial, common school education. 

Teach them to regard the morals and not money of their beaus. 

Teach them all the mysteries of the kitchen, dining-room and the 
parlor. 

Teach them that the more one lives within his income the more he 
will save. 

Teach them to have nothing to do with intemperate and dissolute 
young men. 

Teach them that the further one lives beyond his income the nearer 
he gets to the poor-house. 

Teach them that a good, steady mechanic is worth a dozen loafers in 
broadcloth. 



32 THE HOME LIFE. 



Teach them the accomplishments, music, painting, drawing, if you 
have time and money to do it. 

Rely on it that upon your teaching depends, in a great measure, the 
weal or woe in their after life. 



HONORING OUR PARENTS. 

THE religion of the Chinese consists in honoring their ancestors. One 
good result flows from their religion : they do not speak disrespect- 
fully of their parents. They do not call their father "the old man," or "the 
governor." They do not call their mother "the old woman." May not this 
be the reason why God has given China so long a life as a nation ? 

Obey your parents : not from fear, but from love. Too many children 
obey because they know what will come if they don't. They obey because 
they must or get punished. Mothers are often fretful and fathers tyrants 
and despots, from whom there is no appeal, provoking their children to 
wrath, which God forbids. 

Obey your parents because you love them, because it is right, and 
because God asks it. Let your obedience be prompt and cheerful. 

Obey your parents in their absence. So act in their absence that you 
can always in their presence look them right in the eye. 

Treat your parent's wish as though it were a command. When 
George Washington was all ready to go to sea, he discovered that his 
mother did not wish him to go. As he went in to say good-bye to her, he 
found her in tears. That was enough for him. He went out and said to 
his servant : " Take my trunk back again to my room ; I will not break my 
mother's heart to please myself." When his mother heard what he had 
done she said : " George, God has promised to bless those who honor their 
parents, and he will bless you!" And God did bless Washington, and made 
him a blessing to the world. When he conquered himself he won a greater 
victory than when he conquered the British at Trenton and at Monmouth 
and at Yorktown. Washington's obedience to his parents was the turning- 
point in his life and led to all his after-greatness. 

The Hon. Thomas H. Benton was for thirty years a United States 
Senator. When making a speech in New York once, he turned to the ladies 
present, and spoke thus about his mother : " My mother asked me never to 
use tobacco, and I have never touched it from that day to this. She asked 
me never to learn to gamble, and I never learned to gamble. When I was 
seven years old, she asked me not to drink, and I made a resolution of total 
abstinence. That resolution I have never broken. And now whatever 



THE HOME LIFE. 33 



service I may have been able to render to my country, or whatever honor I 
may have gained, I owe it to my mother." Find out what the wishes of 
your parents are and follow them. 



OBEY YOUR PARENTS. 

OBEY your parents in the Lord. God is above your parents. They 
have no right to command you to do what God forbids. 

Help your parents all you can. Remember what they have done foi 
you. When you were helpless they helped you; now when they are 
helpless help them. Save them as many steps as you can. A young lady 
will never miss it in marrying a young man who is kind and devoted to his 
mother. The young lady who sits at the piano and sings " What is Home 
Without a Mother?" when the mother in question is doing all the hard 
work, will never make a good wife. 

Remember this too, that a son's or daughter's spotless name is, 
while life lasts, a father's truest glory and a mother's greatest joy. 

Help your parents in old age. Make them comfortable. The young 
man or the young woman who is ashamed of his or her father or mother 
because the brilliance has faded out of the eyes and the roses have fled 
from the cheeks, is a grown-up baby. Visit your parents as often as you 
can. Cheer them in their declining days. If you cannot visit them write 
to them often. Amid all the successes of the noble Garfield, nothing 
stirred his energy more than the thought of the gratification that would be 
given to his mother's heart. He always found time to write a letter home 
and tell all that he was doing. 

Christ, while suffering on the cross, provided a home and a guardian 
for his mother : " Now, when Jesus therefore saw his mother and the dis- 
ciple standing by, whom he loved, he saith unto his mother : Behold thy 
son ! And from that hour the disciple took her into his own home." How 
beautifully this sets the example of Christ before us to teach us how to 
honor our father and mother ! — Empty Pews. 



MAKE YOUR MOTHER HAPPY. 

CHILDREN, make your mother happy; 
Make her sing instead of sigh, 
For the mournful hour of parting 
May be very, very nigh. 



34 THE HOME LIFE. 



Children, make your mother happy, 

Many griefs she has to bear : 
And she wearies 'neath her burdens, 

Can you not those burdens share ? 

Children, make your mother happy ; ' 

Prompt obedience cheers the heart ; 
While a wilful disobedience 

Pierces like a poisoned dart. 

Children, make your mother happy ; 

On her brow the lines of care 
Deepen daily, don't you see them ? 

While your own are smooth and fair. 

Children, make your mother happy ; 

For beneath the coffin-lid, 
All too soon her face so saint-like, 

Shall forevermore be hid. 

Bitter tears and self-upbraiding 

Can not bring her back again ; 
And remorseful memories 

Are a legacy of pain. 

Oh, begin to-day, dear children, 

Listen when your mother speaks ; 
Tender, quick, and sweet obedience 

For your highest good she seeks. 

She loves you better than all others, 

And for your sake herself denies ; 
Always patient, prayerful, tender, 

Ever thoughtful, true and wise. 

Remember while you live, dear children, 
And should you search the rounded earth, 

You'll never find a friend more faithful 
Than the one who gave you birth. 

— Anonymous 



THE HOME LIFE. 35 



INGRATITUDE. 

AN old Virginia minister said lately, " Men of my profession see much 
of the tragic side of life. I have seen men die in battle, have seen 
children die, but no death ever seemed so pathetic to me as the death of aif 
aged mother in my church. I knew her first as a young girl, beautiful, 
gay, full of joy and hope. She married and had four children. Her 
husband died and left her penniless. She sewed, she made drawings, she 
taught, she gave herself scarcely any time to eat or sleep. Every thought 
was for her children, to educate them, to give them the advantages their 
father would have given them had he lived. She succeeded. She sent her 
boys to college and her girls to school. When all came home they gave 
themselves up to their own selfish pursuits. She lingered among them 
some three years, and then was stricken with mortal illness, brought on by 
over-work. The children gathered around her bedside. The oldest son 
took her in his arms. He said: 'You have been a good mother to us.' 
That was not mucn to say, was it ? It was much to her, who had never 
heard anything like it before. A flush came over her pallid face, and, with 
husky voice, she whispered: 'My son, you never said so before!' " 



DON'T BE ASHAMED OF YOUR PARENTS. 

SOMETIMES you think mother looks very plain and old-fashioned. Per- 
haps she does ; perhaps she is more than a little faded and worn ; but 
did you ever think that it is because she has given so much of the best 
power and energy of her life to caring for you ? If she had not chosen to 
toil and suffer and deny herself for your sake ; if she had thought more of 
herself and less of you, she might have been very much fairer and fresher 
now. If she had only neglected you instead of herself, she might now 
shine with you in the parlor, for once her cheeks were as lovely as yours are 
now. She might have found more rest and less hard work if she had not 
chosen to spend so many hours in stitching away on frocks, trousers, jackets 
or dresses for you, making new and mending the old. She might have 
better clothes even now to wear, so that you would not blush to have your 
friends meet her with you, if she did not take so much interest in dressing 
you prettily and richly. It may be that the little allowance of money that 
she gets is not sufficient to dress both herself and you in fashionable array, 
and that you may be well clad she wears the same dress and bonnet year 
after year. Never forget where your mother lost her freshness and youthful 
beauty; it was in self-denying toil and suffering for your sake. Those 
wrinkles in her face, those deep care-lines in her cheeks, that weary look in 



36 THE HOME LIFE. 



her eye — she wears all these marks now, where once there was fresh beauty, 
because she has forgotten herself these long years in loving devotion to 
you. These scars of time and toil and pain are the seals of her care for 
you. 



A WORD FOR FATHER. 

LOOK at your father, too. He is not as fresh and youthful as once he was. 
Perhaps he does not dress as finely as some of the young people you 
see about you or as their father's dress. There are marks of hard toil upon 
him, marks of care and anxiety, which in your eye seem to disfigure his 
beauty. It may be that you blush a little sometimes when your young 
friends meet you walking with him or when he comes into the parlor when 
you have company, and wish he would take more pains to appear well. Do 
not forget that he is toiling these days for you, and that his hard hands and 
his bronzed face are really tokens of his love for you. If he does not 
appear quite as fresh and handsome as some other men, very likely it is 
because he has to work harder to give you your pleasant home, your good 
clothes, your daily food and many comforts and to send you to school. 
When you look at him and feel tempted to be ashamed of his appearance, 
just remember this. 

Perhaps he is an old man, with bent form, white hair, slow step, 
awkward hand, wrinkled face, and feeble, broken voice. Forget not what 
history there is in all these marks that look to you like marrings of his 
manly beatity. The soul writes its story on the body. The soldier's 
scars tell of heroisms and sacrifices. The merchant's anxious face and knit 
brow tell of struggle and anxiety. So gluttony and greed and selfishness 
and licentiousness write out their record in unmistakable lines on the 
features, and so do kindness, benevolence, unselfishness, and purity. You 
look at your father and see signs of toil, of pain, of self-denial, of care. 
Do you know what they reveal ? They tell the story of his life. He has 
passed through struggles and conflicts. Do you know how much of this 
Story, if rightly interpreted, concerns you ? Is there nothing in the bent 
form, the faded hands, the lines of care, that tell you of his deep love for 
fou and of sufferings endured, sacrifices made, and toils and anxieties for 
your sake ? 

When you think thus of what you owe your parents and of what 
they have borne and wrought for you, can you ever again be ashamed of 
them ? Will not the shame rather be for yourself that you could ever have 
been so ungrateful as to blush at their homeliness ? All the reverence of 
your soul will be kindled into deepest, purest admiration, as you look upon 



THE HOME LIFE. 37 



those marks of love and sacrifice for your sake. You will honor them all 
the more, the more they are worn and wasted, the more they are broken 
and their grace and beauty shattered. These tokens of self-neglect and 
self-sacrifice are the jewels in the crown of love.—/. R. Miller. 



MOTHERHOOD. 

O MOTHERS ! Does God give to angels any work grander than yours ? 
A wise man writes : " Women sigh for fame. They would be 
sculptors and chisel out of the cold stone forms of beauty to fill the world 
with admiration of their skill. Or they would be poets to write songs to 
thrill a nation and to be sung around the world. But is any work in marble 
so great as hers who has an immortal life laid in her hands to shape its 
destiny? Is the writing of any poem in musical lines so noble a work as 
the training of the powers of a human soul into harmony ? Yet there are 
women who regard the duties and cares of motherhood as too obscure and 
commonplace tasks for their hands. So when a baby comes a nurse is 
hired, who, for a weekly compensation, agrees to take charge of the little 
one, that the mother may be free from such drudgery to devote herself to 
what she thinks nobler and worthier things — free to keep in the old gay 
life, free to pet pugs, to dress and drive, to visit and receive, to enjoy 
balls and operas, and thus she discharges her trust of an immortal life 
by proxy. 

" O, that God would give every mother a vision of the glory and 
splendor of the work that is given to her when a babe is placed in her 
bosom to be nursed and trained ! Could she have but one glimpse into the 
future of that life as it reaches on into eternity, could she look into its soul 
to see its possibilities, could she be made to understand her own responsi- 
bility for the training of this child, for the development of its life, and 
for its destiny, she would see that in all God's world there is no other 
work so noble and so worthy of her best powers, and she would commit 
to no other hands the sacred and holy trust given to her." 

Men say that into the strings of some old Cremona violin the life of 
the master who once played upon it has passed, so that it is as an 
imprisoned soul, breathing out at every skillful touch. This is only a 
beautiful poetic fancy. But when a little child in a mother's bosom is 
loved, nursed, caressed, held close to her heart, prayed over, wept over, 
talked with, for days, weeks, months, years, it is no mere fancy to say that 
the mother's life has indeed passed into the child's soul. 



38 THE HOME LIFE. 



" O, mothers of young children, I bow before you in reverence ! Your 
work is most holy. The powers folded up in the little ones that you 
hushed to sleep in your bosoms last night are powers that shall exist for- 
ever. Take up your burdens reverently. Be sure that your heart is pure 
and that your life is sweet and clean. The Persian apologue says that the 
lump of clay was fragant because it had lain on a rose. Let your heart be 
as the rose, and then your child, as it lies upon your bosom, will absorb 
the fragrance. If there is no sweetness in the rose the clay will not be per- 
fumed." 

" She who rocks the cradle rules the world," " for she it is who guides 
and trains the opening minds of those who shall influence the coming 
generations. In its earliest years, the mother's every look, tone of voice 
and action, sink into the heart and memory of her child, and are presently 
reproduced in his own life. No wonder that a good mother has been called 
nature's chef d' ceuvre, for she is not only the perfection of womanhood, but 
the most beautiful and valuable of nature's productions. To her the world 
is indebted for the work done by most of its great and gifted men. As 
letters cut in the bark of a young tree grow and widen with age, so do the 
ideas which a mother implants in the mind of her talented child." 



A MOTHER'S LOVE. 

CAN a mother's love be supplied ? No ! a thousand times no ! By the 
deep earnest yearning of our spirits ; by the weary, aching void in 
our hearts ; by the restless, unsatisfied wanderings in our affections ; by the 
hallowed emotions with which we cherish the vision of a grass grown 
mound in a quiet graveyard among the mountains ; by the reverence, the 
holy love, the feeling akin to idolatry, with which our thoughts hover 
about an angel form among the Seraphs of Heaven — by all these we 
answer, no! 

Often do I sigh for the sweet, deep security I felt when of an evening, 
nestling in her bosom, I listened to some quiet tale read in her tender and 
untiring voice. Never can I forget her sweet glance cast upon me when I 
appeared asleep ; never her kiss of peace at night. Years have passed away 
since we laid her beside my father in the old churchyard ; yet, still her 
voice whispers from the grave, and her eye watches, as I visit spots 
hallowed to the memory of my mother. 

Oh ! there is an enduring tenderness in the love of a mother for a 
son that transcends all other affections. It is neither chilled by selfishness 
nor daunted by danger; nor weakened by worthlessness; nor stifled by 



THE HOME LIFE. 39 



ingratitude. She will sacrifice every comfort to his convenience ; she will 
surrender every pleasure to his enjoyment; she will glory in his fame and 
exult in his prosperity; if misfortune overtakes him, he will be dearer to 
her than ever; and if disgrace settle upon his name, she will still love and 
cherish him ; aye ! if all the world cast him off, she will be all the world 
to him. 

Alas ! how little do we appreciate a mother's love. But when she is 
gone ; when the cares and coldness of the world come withering to our 
hearts ; when we learn how hard it is to find true sympathy ; how few to 
love us ; how few to befriend us ; then it is that we think of the mother we 
have lost. 

O, a mother's grave! Earth has some sacred spots where we feel 
like loosing our shoes from our feet, and treading with reverence, where 
common words of social converse seem rude; where vows have been 
plighted, prayers offered, tears shed. But of all spots on this green earth 
none is so sacred as that where rests, waiting the resurrection, the ashes of 
the loved mother. The world's most holy place is a mother's grave. 



WOMAN'S TRUE SPHERE. 

WHAT America wants now is about 500,000 old-fashioned mothers, 
women who shall realize that the highest, grandest institution on 
earth is the home. There is a world of truth in the following : 

" Do not, my sister, be dizzied and disturbed by the talk of those who 
think the home circle too insignificant for a woman's career, and who want 
to get you out on platforms and in conspicuous enterprises. There are 
women who have a special outside mission, and do not dare to interpret me 
as derisive of their important mission. But my opinion is that the woman 
who can reinforce her husband in the work of life, and rear her children 
for positions of usefulness, is doing more for God and the race and her own 
happiness than if she spoke on every great platform, and headed a hundred 
great enterprises. My mother never made a missionary speech in her life, 
and at a missionary meeting I doubt whether she could have got enough 
courage to vote aye or no, but she raised her son John, who has been 
preaching the Gospel and translating religious literature in Amoy, China, 
for about forty years. Was not that a better thing to do ? 

" Compare such an one with one of those die-away, attitudinizing, 
frivolous, married coquettes of the modern drawing-room, her heaven an 
opera box on the night of Meyerbeer's ' Robert le Diable,' the ten com- 
mandments an inconvenience, taking arsenic to improve the complexion, 



4 o THE HOME LIFE. 



and her appearance a confused result of belladonna, bleached hair, anti- 
mony and mineral acids, until she is compelled to discuss her character 
and wonder whether the line between a decent and indecent life is, like the 
equator, an imaginary line." — Talmage. 



NURSING FATHERS. 

THERE is no effeminacy in the title " Nursing Fathers," but the con- 
trary. Fondness for children arises from compassionate feeling for 
creatures that are helpless and innocent. 

Happy is he who is happy in his children, and happy are the children 
who are happy in their father. All fathers are not wise. Some are like 
Eli, and spoil their children. Not to cross our children is the way to make 
a cross of them. 

Help your wives to make home lively and pleasant, so as to keep the 
ehildren from seeking pleasure and excitement elsewhere. 

The proverb says, " Clergymen's sons always turn out badly." Why? 
Because the children are surfeited with severe religion, not the true religion 
of Christ, who was Himself reproved by the prototypes of such severe 
men. 

We give here a sketch of Canon Kingsley as a father, because we do 
not remember any home life more beautiful and instructive. Because the 
Rectory-house was on low ground, the Rector of Eversley, who considered 
violation of the divine laws of health a sort of acted blasphemy, built his 
children an out-door nursery on the "Mount," where they kept books, toys, 
and tea-things, spending long, happy days on the highest and loveliest 
point of moorland in the glebe ; and there he would join them when his 
parish work was done, bringing them some fresh treasure picked up in his 
walk, a choice wild-flower or fern or rare beetle, sometimes a lizard or a 
field-mouse, ever waking up their sense of wonder, calling out their powers 
of observation, and teaching them lessons out of God's great green book, 
without their knowing they were learning. Out-of-doors and indoors, the 
Sundays were the happiest days of the week to the children, though to 
their father the hardest. When his day's work was done, there was 
always the Sunday walk, in which each bird and plant - ud brook was 
pointed out to the children, as preaching sermons to eyes, such as were not 
even dreamt of by people of the No-eye species. Indoors the Sunday pic- 
ture-books were brought out, and each child chose its subject for the father 
to draw, either some Bible story, or bird or beast or flower. 



THE HOME LIFE. 41 



Kingsley had a horror of corporal punishment, not merely because it 
tends to produce antagonism between parent and child, but because he 
considered more than half the lying of children to be the result of fear of 
punishment. 

" Do not train a child," he said, " as men train a horse, by letting 
anger and punishment be the first announcement of his having sinned. If 
you do, you induce two bad habits : first, the boy regards his parent with a 
kind of blind dread, as a being who may be offended by actions which to 
him are innocent, and whose wrath he expects to fall upon him at any 
moment in his most pure and unselfish happiness. Next and worst still, 
the boy learns not to fear sin, but the punishment of it, and thus he learns 
to lie." 

He had no " moods " with his family, for he cultivated, by strict dis- 
cipline in the midst of worries and pressing business, a disengaged temper, 
that always enabled him to enter into other people's interests and especially 
into children's playfulness. " I wonder," he would say, "if there is so much 
laughing in any other home in England as in ours. He became a light-hearted 
boy in the presence of his children. When broken toys and nursery griefs 
were taken to his study, he was never too busy to mend the toy and dry the 
tears. 

How blessed is the son who can speak of his> father as Charles 
Kingsley's eldest son does. " ' Perfect love casteth out fear ! ' was the motto," 
he says, " on which my father based his theory of bringing up children. 
From this and from the interest he took in their pursuits, their pleasures, 
trials, and even the petty details of their every-day life, there sprang up a 
friendship between father and children, that increased in intensity and 
depth with years. To speak for myself, he was the best friend — the only 
true friend I ever had. At once he was the most fatherly and the most 
unfatherly of fathers — fatherly in that he was our intimate friend and our 
self-constituted adviser ; unfatherly in that our feeling for him lacked that 
fear and restraint that make boys call their father "the governor." Ours 
was the only household I ever saw in which there was no favoritism. 
Perhaps the brightest picture of the past that I look back to now is the 
drawing-room at Eversley, in the evenings, when we were all at home and by 
ourselves. There he sat, with one hand in mother's, forgetting his own 
hard work in leading our fun and frolic, with a kindly smile on his lips, and 
a loving light in that bright gray eye, that made us feel that, in the broadest 
sense of the word, he was our father." 

Writing to his wife from the seaside, where he had gone in search 
of health, he says : " This place is perfect ; but it seems a dream and imper- 
fect without you. Kiss the darling ducks of children for me. How I long 



42 THE HOME LIFE. 



after them and their prattle ! I delight in all the little ones in the street, for 
their sake, and continually I start and fancy I hear their voices outside. 
You do not know how I love them; nor did I hardly till I came here. 
Absence quickens love into consciousness. Tell Rose and Maurice that I 
have got two pair of bucks' horns — one for each of them, huge old fellows, 
almost as big as baby." 

Writing from France " to my dear little man," as he calls his 
youngest son (for whom he wrote the " Water Babies "), he says : "There is 
a little Egyptian vulture here in the inn; ask mother to show you his 
picture in the beginning of the bird-book." There was little danger that 
the sons of such a clergyman as this would turn out badly. 

If family government were well carried out in every home, children 
would be happier and better than they are now. Then there would be, even 
in our great towns, a partial realization of the words of the Prophet 
Zachariah, "And the streets of the city shall be full of boys and girls, 
playing in the streets thereof." — Hozv to Be Happy Though Married. 



A WORD TO BUSY FATHERS. 

THE busiest father should find at least a few moments every day to 
romp with his children. A man who is too stately and dignified to 
play with his baby or carry his little ones pickback or help them in their 
sports and games, not only lacks one of the finest elements of true great- 
ness, but fails in one of his duties to his children. For this is one of the 
points at which the mother should not be left alone. She is with her 
children all the day, and carries the burden of their entertainment for long 
hours without rest or pause. Surely it is only just to her that for the little 
time the father is in the home he should relieve her. Besides, he owes it 
to his children, for one of their inalienable rights under his roof and at his 
hands is happiness. No father can afford to let his children grow up with- 
out weaving himself into the memories of their golden youth. Norman 
McLeod says : " Oh, sunshine of youth, let it shine on ! Let love flow out 
fresh and full, unchecked by any rule but what love creates, and pour 
itself down without stint into the young heart. Make the days of boyhood 
happy, for other days of labor and sorrow must come, when the blessing of 
those dear eyes and clasping hands and sweet caresses will, next to the 
love of God from whence they flow, save the man from losing faith in the 
human heart, help to deliver him from the curse of selfishness and be an 
Eden in the evening when he is driven forth into the wilderness of life." 
Another writes : "The richest heritage that parents can give is a happy 



THE HOME LIFE. 43 



childhood, with tender memories of father and mother. This will brighten 
the coming days when the children have gone out from the sheltering 
home, will be a safeguard in times of temptation and a conscious help 
amid the stern realities of life." 



LOVE. 

LOVE is the light, the majesty of life, that principle to which, after all 
our struggling, and writhing, and twisting, all things must be resolved. 
Take it away, and what becomes of the world ! It is a barren wilderness. 
A world of monuments, each standing upright and crumbling, an army of 
gray stones, without a chaplet. Things base and foul, creeping, withered, 
bloodless, and brainless, could spring alone from such a marble-hearted soil. 

Love's darts are silver; when they turn to fire in the noble heart, they 
impart a portion of that heavenly flame which is their element. Love is of 
such a refining, elevating character, that it expels all that is mean and base; 
bids us think great thoughts, do great deeds, and it changes our common 
clay into fine gold. It illumines our paths, dark and mysterious as they 
may be, with the very light of heaven. Oh ! poor, weak, and inexpressive 
are words with which to tell of love's greatness and power ! Dull, pitiful, 
and cold ; — dead stones to bring back to us the far-flashing of the sparkling 
ruby with his heart of fire! The blue eyes of turquoises, or the liquid light 
of the sapphire should be used to help us spell along, and character out our 
thoughts of love. 

The affection that links together husband and wife is a holier and 
more enduring passion than the enthusiasm of young love. It may want 
its gorgeousness — it nfay want its imaginative character, but it is richer, 
and trustier in its attributes. Talk not to us of the absence of love in 
wedlock. No ! it burns with a steady and brilliant flame, shedding a benign 
influence upon existence, a million times more precious than the selfish 
gratifications of "single-blessedness." 

Domestic love! Who can measure its height or depth? Who can 
estimate its preserving and purifying power? It sends an ever swelling 
stream of joy through the household; it binds hearts into one "bundle" of 
life; it shields from temptation; takes the sting from disappointment; 
breathes music into the voice ; puts lightness into the foot-step ; gives worth 
and beauty to the commonest office ; surrounds home with an atmosphere 
of moral health ; gives power to effort and wings to progress, — it is omni- 
potent. Love is like a cathedral tower, which begins on the earth and is 
surrounded by the other parts of the structure, but at length rising above 
buttressed wall, and arch, and parapet and pinnacle, it shoots spire-like far 



44 THE HOME LIFE. 



into the air, so high that the cross on its summit glows like a spark in the 
morning light, and shines like a star in the evening sky. 



LOVE. 

LOVE iz one oy the pashuns, and the most diffikult one ov all tew 
deskribe. 

I never yet hav herd love well defined I hav read several deskrip- 
shuns ov it, but they were written by those who were in love, (or thought 
they waz,) and i wouldn't beleave such testimony, not even under oath. 

Almoste every boddy sum time in their life, haz been in love, and if 
they think it iz an eazy sensashun tew deskribe, let them set down and 
deskribe it, and see if the persons who listens tew the deskripshun, will be 
satisfied with it. 

I waz in love once miself for 7 long years, and mi friends all sid i had 
a consupshun, but i knu all the time what ailed me, but couldn't deskribe it. 

Now all that i kan rekolekt about this luv sikness is, that for those 7 
long years i waz, if enny thing, rather more ov a kondem phool than 
ordinary. 

Love iz an honorabel dissease enuff tew hav, bekause it iz natral ; but 
enny phellow who has laid sik with it for 7 long years, after he gits 
over it, feels sum thing like the phellow who haz phell down on the ice 
when it iz very wet — he don't feel like talking about it before folks. — Josh 
.Billings. 

LOVE. 

LOVE attracts, it is magnetic ; 
Love is soothing, sympathetic; 
Love is incense, always burning ; 
Love is longing, always yearning; 
Love is rapture, radiant meekness ; 
Love is strength, a balm for weakness ; 
Love is wealth and hope and duty, 
Love is elegance and beauty; 
Love is tune and love is song, 
Love is always, love is long ; 
Love is lifetime's noblest treasure, 
Love is thrilling, joyous pleasure; 
Love is chaste and love is pure, 
Love for ever shall endure. 

—Sheffield (Eng.) Telegraph. 



THE HOME LIFE. 45 



COURTSHIP. 

IF ever caution is needed, it is here. Mistake is so easy; undesigned 
duplicity is so natural ! The lady wreathed in smiles, and moving with 
cautious effort to conceal defects of temper and intellect, acquires almost irre- 
sistible influence. The still small voice of the better judgment whispers, 
" Beware !" It suggests the lack of one adornment, the excess of a particu- 
lar defect, the absence of certain desirable qualities and attainments in vain. 
The heart silences the cooler dictates of the mind ; the question is put, the 
engagement made, the vows exchanged, the marriage celebrated ; and the 
wretched parties learn, when too late, their unfitness for each other ; and 
too often their subsequent life is miserable beyond description. Be careful, 
therefore, young man, at the very beginning. When a slight fondness for 
any lady arises, hold it in check till you have time to discover what she is. 
If manifestly unfit, intellectually, morally, or socially, to be your future wife, 
stifle your affection, seek other society. The pain of such a resolution will 
bear no comparison with the agony consequent upon an imprudent 
marriage. 

Many young ladies indulge in very nonsensical notions concerning 
love. They fancy themselves bound to be " smitten " with almost every 
silly idler who wears a fashionable coat, is tolerably good-looking, and pays 
them particular attention. Reason, judgment, deliberation, according to 
their fancies, have nothing to do with love. Hence they yield to their feel- 
ings, and give their company to young men, regardless of warning, advice, 
or entreaty. A father's sadness, a mother's tears are treated with contempt, 
and often with bitter retorts. Their lovers use flattering words ; and, like 
silly moths fluttering round the fatal lamp, they allow themselves to be 
charmed into certain misery. 

Learn that }-our affections are under your own control; that pure 
affection is founded upon esteem ; that estimable qualities in a man can 
alone secure the continuance of connubial love; that if these*are not in 
him, your love has no foundation, and will fall, a wilted flower as soon as 
the excitement of youthful passion is overpast. — Dr. Wise. 



A young man, paying special attention to a young lady, was invited 
into the parlor to await her appearance. A little girl, about five years old, 
slipped in, and said, " I can always tell when you are coming to the house. 
When you are going to be here sister begins to sing and be good ; she gives 
me cake and pie and anything I want ; and she sings so sweetly when you 
are here ! and, when I speak to her she smiles so pleasantly ! I wish you 
would stay here all the while ; then I would have a good time. But when 



46 THE HOME LIFE. 



you are off sister is not good. She gets mad ; and, if I ask her for anything 
she slaps and bangs me about." " Fools and children tell the truth," quoth 
he, and taking his hat, he left and returned no more. 



KORTING. 



KORTING is a luxury, it is sallid, it is ise water, it is a beveridge, it 
is the pla spell ov the soul. 

The man who haz never korted haz lived in vain, he haz bin a blind 
man amung landscapes and waterscapes, he haz bin a deff man in the 
land ov hand orgins, and by the side ov murmuring canals. 

Korting is like 2 little springs ov soft water that steal out from 
under a rock at the fut ov a mountain and run down the hill side by side, 
singing and dansing and spatering each other, eddying and frothing and 
kaskading, now hiding under the bank, now full ov sun and now full ov 
shadder, till bimeby tha jine and then tha go slow. 

I am in faver ov long korting, it gives the parties a chance to find 
out each uther's trump cards, it iz good exercise, and iz jist az innersent az 
2 merino lambs. 

Korting iz like strawberries and cream, wants to be did slow, then 
yu git the fiaver. 

Az a ginral thing i wouldn't brag on uther galls mutch when i waz 
korting, it mite look az tho yu knu tew mutch. 

If yu will kort this wa 3 years, awl the time on the square, if yu 
don't sa it iz a leetle the slikest time in yure life, yu kan git measured for a 
hat at my expense, and pa for it. 

Don't kort for munny, nor buty, nor relashuns, theze things ar jist 
about az onsartin az the kerosine ile refining bissness, liabel tew git out ov 
repar and bust at enny minnit. 

Kort a gal fur phun, fur the luv yu bare hur, fur the vartu and biss- 
ness thare iz in hur ; kort hur fur a wife, and fur a muther ; kort hur az yu 
wood kort a farm — fur the strength ov the sile and the parf eckshun ov the title ; 
kort hur az tho she want a fule, and yu a nuther ; kort hur in the kitchen, 
in the parlor, over the wash-tub and at the pianner ; kort hur this wa yung 
man and if yu don't git a good wife and she don't git a good hustband, the 
fait wont be in the korting. 

Yung man yu kan reli upon Josh Billings, and if yu kant mak theze 
rools wurk jist send fur him, and he will sho yu how the thing iz did, and 
it shant kost yu a sent.— Josh Billings. 



THE HOME LIFE. 47 



THE WHISTLE. 



*(( VfOU have heard," said a youth to his sweetheart, who stood, 
1 While he sat on a corn-sheaf, at daylight's decline, — 
" You have heard of the Danish boy's whistle of wood ? 
I wish that that Danish boy's whistle were mine." 

"And what would you do with it ? — tell me," she said, 
While an arch smile played over her beautiful face. 

"I would blow it," he answered; "and then my fair maid 
Would fly to my side, and would here take her place." 

"Is that all you wish it for? — That may be yours 
Without any magic," the fair maiden cried : 

"A favor so light one's good nature secures ;" 
And she playfully seated herself by his side. 

"I would blow it again," said the youth, "and the charm 
Would work so, that not even Modesty's check 
Would be able to keep from my neck your fine arm :" 
She smiled, — and she laid her fine arm round his neck. 

" Yet once more would I blow, and the music divine 
Would bring me the third time an exquisite bliss : 
You would lay your fair cheek to this brown one of mine, 
And your lips, stealing past it, would give me a kiss." 

The maiden laughed out in her innocent glee, — 
" What a fool of yourself with your whistle you'd make ! 

For only consider, how silly 'twould be, 
To sit there and whistle for — what you might take." 

— Robert Story. 



MARRIAGE. 

MARRIAGE iz a fair transaction on the face of it. But thare iz quite 
too often put up jobs in it. 

It iz an old institushun, older than the pyramids, and az phull ov 
hyrogliphicks than noboddy can parse. 

History holds its tongue who the pair waz who fust put on the silken 
harness, and promised tew work kind in it, thru thick and thin, up hill and 
down, and on the level, rain or shine, survive or perish, sink or swim, drown 
or flote. 



48 THE HOME LIFE. 



But whoever they waz they must hav made a good thing out ov it, or 
so menny ov their posterity would not hav harnessed up since and drov out. 

Thare iz a grate moral grip in marriage ; it iz the mortar that holds 
the soshull bricks together. 

But thare ain't but few pholks who put their money in matrimony 
who could set down and giv a good written opinyun whi on arth they cum 
to did it. 

This iz a grate proof that it iz one ov them natral kind of acksidents 
that must happen, jist az birds fly out ov the nest, when they hav feathers 
enuff, without being able to tell why. Sum marry for money, and — don't 
see it. Sum marry for pedigree, and feel big for six months, and then very 
sensibly cum tew the conclusion that pedigree ain't no better than skim 
milk. 

Sum marry tew please their relashuns, and are surprized tew learn 
that their relashuns don't care a cuss for them afterwards. Sum marry 
bekause they hav bin highsted sum whare else ; this iz a cross match, a bay 
and a sorrel ; pride may make it endurable. 

Sum marry for love without a cent in their pockets, nor a friend in 
the world, nor a drop of a pedigree. This looks desperate, but it iz the 
strength ov the game. 

If marrying for love ain't a suckcess, then matrimony is a ded beet. 

Sum marry bekause they think wimmin will be skarse next year, and 
liv to wonder how the crop holds out. 

Sum marry tew git rid ov themselfs, and diskover that the game waz 
one that two could play at, and neither win. 

Sum marry the seckoned time to git even, and find it a gambling 
game, the more they put down, the less they take up. 

Sum marry tew be happy, and finding it, wonder whare all the happi- 
ness on earth goes to when it dies. 

Sum marry, they kant tell whi, and liv, they kant tell how. 

Almoste every boddy gits married, and it iz a good joke. 

Sum marry in haste, and then set down and think it careful over. 

Both ways are right, if they hit the mark. 

Sum marry rakes tew convert them. Thiz is a little risky, and takes. 
a smart missionary to do it. 

Sum marry coquett's. This iz like buying a poor farm,, heavily mort- 
gaged, and working the ballance of yure days tew clear oph the mortgages. 

Married life has its chances, and this iz jist what gives it its flavour. 
Everbody luvs tew phool with the chances, bekause every boddy expekts 
tew win. But i am authorized tew state that everboddy don't win. 

But, after all, married life iz full az certain az the dry goods bizziness.. 



THE HOME LIFE. 49 



No man kan swear exactly whare he will fetch up when he touches 
calico. Kno man kan tell jist what calico haz made up its mind tew do 
next. Calico don't kno even herself. 

Dri goods ov all kinds is the child ov circumstansis. Sum never 
marry, ,but this iz jist as risky, the disease iz the same, with no other 
name to it. 

The man who stands on the bank shivvering, and dassent, iz more 
apt to ketch cold, than him who pitches hiz head fust into the river. 

Thare iz but phew who never marry bekause they wont, they all 
hanker, and most ov them starve with slices of bread before them (spread 
on both sides), jist for lack ov grit. Marry young ! iz mi motto. 

I have tried it and kno what i am talkin about. If enny boddy asks 
yu whi yu got married, (if it needs be), tell him, yu dorit reccollekt. 

Marriage is a safe way to gamble — if yu win, yu win a pile, and if yu 
loze, yu don't loze enny thing, only the privilege ov living dismally alone, 
and soaking yure own feet. *- 

I repeat it, in italicks, marry young ! Thare iz but one good excuse 
for a marriage late in life, and that iz — a second marriage. — Josh. Billings. 



BACHELOR'S HALL. 

BACHELOR'S hall! what a quare-lookin' place it is! 
Kape me from sich all the days of my life ! 
Sure, but I think what a burnin' disgrace it is 
Niver at all to be gettin' a wife. 

See the old bachelor, gloomy and sad enough, 

Placing his taykettle over the fire ; 
Soon it tips over — St. Patrick ! he's mad enough 

(If he were present) to fight wid the squire. 

Then, like a hog in a mortar-bed wallowing, 
Awkward enough, see him knading his dough ; 

Troth ! if the bread he could ate widout swallowing, 
How it would favor his palate, you know ! 

His dishcloth is missing ; the pigs are devouring it ; 

In the pursuit he has battered his shin ; 
A plate wanted washing; Grimalkin is scouring it; 

Thunder and turf ! what a pickle he's in ! . 



50 ' THE HOME LIFE. 

His meal being over, the table's left setting- so ; 

Dishes, take care of yourselves, if you can ! 
But hunger returns ; then he's fuming and fretting so ! 

Och ! let him alone for a baste of a man. 

Pots, dishes, pans, and such grasy commodities, 

Ashes and prata-skins, kiver the floor ; 
His cupboard's a storehouse of comical oddities 

Sich as had niver been neighbors before. 

Late in the night, then, he goes to bed shiverin' ; 

Niver the bit is the bed made at all ; 
He crapes, like a tarrapin, under the kiverin' — 

Bad luck to the picter of Bachelor's Hall. 

— John Finley. 

OLD BACHELORS. 

DEEP down in my heart I am sorry for old bachelors. Sometimes they 
are abused. I would as soon think of abusing a man prostrate with 
inflammatory rheumatism ! Dig into the old bachelor's breast and you find 
there, instead of a heart, a dried and pulseless lobe, or perchance an urn, 
with ashes gray, from off the altar fires that long ago have paled. With 
lashes wet in times of lonely solitude, he murmurs some old, familiar name, 
and reads with dim vision the memories of an early love. These tears from 
eyes oft dried by kind old Time are dropped for old love's sake. Young 
ladies, have you ever uttered one light word of them? I beg you now, 
repent. Vent your wrath upon some offending infant — not on these. 

There is a deep philosophy in marriage. The path to happiness 
leads out of self. Not what we receive makes us happiest, but what we 
give off. In self-sacrifice we learn life's sweetest lessons. True marriage 
is living for another. Marriage brings responsibilities, but responsibilities 
are blessings in disguise. They educate. A young man may count himself 
blessed when he has a wife and several children to support. They are his 
anchors. Cut him loose and he might go adrift. If there are more burdens 
to carry there are more to carry them, and an inspiration that makes 
burdens delightful. Young gentlemen, lend me your ears. I come not 
here to discourage matrimony, but to praise it. See the husband at home. 
The rude world is shut out from his fortress. The bright fire leaps and 
flares. The wife draws her chair close to his, grasps his hand and pours 
out the low, sweet strain of a woman's love. I know if there is an old 
bachelor here to-night his mouth is watering right now. 



THE HOME LIFE. 



OLD MAIDS. 

MARRIAGE is God's holiest ordinance, and home earth's best picture 
of Heaven. Wifehood and motherhood is the ideal state of woman, 
as husbandhood and fatherhood is the ideal state of man. Yet marriage is 
not the one goal of woman, and without it her life a failure. There is a 
place and work for a sister, daughter and friend, as well as for a wife and 
mother. 

Nothing causes so many ill-assorted marriages and their mischievous 
results as making " old maid " a term of reproach. Light-minded people 
make fun of the old maid. Many girls have been hurled into matrimony 
by the dread of being so stigmatized, who repented it to their dying day. 
This is a free country. If a woman remains single it is her own affair, and 
outsiders need not concern themselves about it. There is scarcely a woman 
anywhere, of fair looks and sense, who could not marry some sort of a man. 
Old maids can give more honorable reasons for living outside the temple 
of Hymen, than their foolish sisters who rushed in. Some have never 
found their other selves, or providential circumstances may have prevented 
the junction of these selves ; or they never have seen the man into whose 
face they could look with pride, and on whose arm they could lean all their 
weight with implicit confidence. And is not a life of loneliness better than 
a loveless marriage? Is not single-blessedness preferable to double-cursed- 
ness ? Is it not better to live alone and work for your loving, than to live 
a lie with a man for the sake of being kept ? 

A marriage with any but a worthy man, a marriage without love, is 
not simply a mistake, a misfortune, but a humiliating stoop into the dust, 
a degradation of woman, a mockery that blushes to the skies. 

There are hundreds of women who laid down all the hopes of wedded 
bliss for the sake of accomplishing some good work. Some of the brightest, 
prettiest and most interesting women are so much absorbed in the serious 
work of life that they regard husbands as altogether unnecessary incon- 
veniences. They are satisfied and useful. In such cases singleness is an 
honorable estate. The Bible says it is not good for man to be alone, but does 
not say it is not good for woman to be alone. The fact is, thousands of 
women would be ten thousand times better off if they were alone. 
Many a bride, instead of orange blossoms, might wear nettles, and instead 
of the wedding-march, a more appropriate tune would be, " The Dead 
March in Saul." The frogs in ^Esop's fable were extremely wise. They 
had a great mind to some water, but they would not leap into the well, 
because they could not get out again. Sisters, look before you leap ! — 
Madison C. Peters. 



52 THE HOME LIFE. 



THE HOLINESS OF MARRIAGE. 

WOULD to God that His dear Son were bidden to all the weddings as 
to that of Cana ! Truly, then, the wine of consolation and blessing 
would never be lacking. They who would find a blessing in marriage 
must ponder the holiness and dignity of this mystery, instead of which too 
often weddings become seasons of mere feasting and disorder. A new 
home is being formed, in reference to which the bride and groom should 
think, " This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of 
heaven. As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord." Home is the 
place of the highest joys ; religion should sanctify it. Home is the sphere 
of the deepest sorrows ; the consolation of religion should assuage its 
griefs. Home is the place of the greatest intimacy of heart with heart; 
religion should sweeten it with the joy of confidence. Home discovers all 
faults ; religion should bless it with the abundance of charity. Home is 
the place for impressions, for instruction and culture ; there should religion 
open her treasures of wisdom and pronounce her heavenly benediction. 

Young friends, may joy crown you, love bless you, God speed your 
career ! 

" Some natural tears they dropp'd, but wiped them soon, 

The world was all before them, where to choose 

Their place of rest, and Providence their guide. 

They, hand in hand, with wand'ring steps and slow, 

Through Eden took their solitary way." 



UNEQUALLY YOKED TOGETHER. 

OVID says : " If you wish to marry suitably, marry your equal." If 
possible, marry a man who is in some way your superior.- Your 
standing in society will be determined by his. If you marry your inferior, 
you wrong yourself, your family, and your whole life. As Shakespeare 
says: 

" 'Tis meet that noble minds 
Keep ever with their likes." 

True are the words of Tennyson in Locksley Hall of every woman 
who marries her inferior : 

" Thou shalt lower to his level day by day, 
What is fine within thee growing coarse to sympathize with clay. 
As the husband is, the wife is ; thou art mated with a clown, 
And the grossness of his nature will have power to drag thee down. 
He will hold thee when his passion shall have spent its novel force, 
Something better than his dog, a little dearer than his horse." 



THE HOME LIFE. 53 



Now and then a woman of great force of character may lift her 
husband upward, but she accepts such a labor at the risk of her own higher 
life. Do not misunderstand me. I do not say that you shall marry for 
ambition. This is Mrs. Carlyle's experience. She said : " I married for 
ambition ; Carlyle has exceeded all that my wildest hopes ever imagined of 
him, and I am miserable." Yet there is no great danger marrying geniuses, 
as the supply is very limited. Many men think themselves geniuses, and try 
to make the female sex believe that they are not made of common clay, and 
that the girl who gets them will be blessed. From such a blessing I would 
have you adopt the Episcopalian prayer: "Good Lord deliver us/" — Empty 
Pews. 

ADVICE TO GIRLS. 

GIRLS, don't marry a man for money, position or anything but love. 
Don't do it, if you want to live to a good old age and be happy. You 
may think that money can bring you all you desire, but it can't. That is 
where you are mistaken. It can buy a good many things, but it can never 
purchase contentment for your heart or happiness for your soul. It may 
bring temporary smiles to your face, but it will leave great shadows in your 
heart. Don't think I would advise you to marry a worthless fellow just 
because you love him. A refined, good, intelligent woman should never 
marry a vulgar, ill-bred man. No, no, never unite yourself to anyone who 
is not a man in the truest meaning of the word. Neither would I advise a 
woman to marry a man who had no visible means of supporting her, but 
don't under any circumstances marry a millionaire or a king if you don't 
love him. It will not do. People have tried it time and again, only to find 
it a miserable failure. It may do for awhile. You may revel in gilded 
halls, and be lost in the giddy rounds of pleasure, but a time will come 
when these things will be a hollow mockery to you. There will be an 
" aching void " the world can never fill. Sometimes mothers are to blame 
for the unhappiness of their daughters. They teach them that respect for 
their husbands and lots of " boodle " are infinitely to be preferred to that 
foolishness called love. That would do well enough if life had no waves of 
trouble, but it takes something more than simple respect to make two hearts 
cling together in the hour of adversity. A woman that turns her back on 
wealth and takes the man of her choice may miss some of the luxuries of 
life, but she will be happy. Don't marry a dude. Better get you a monkey. 
It is cheaper and a great deal nicer. Don't fool with that class of animals. 
They generally wear a ten-dollar hat on a ten-cent brain, and the woman 
who takes one of these chaps will get left about as bad as the Southern 
Confederacy did at Appomattox. — Home Journal. 



54 THE HOME LIFE. 



ELOPEMENT. 

WHEN you realize that the sacred and divine institution is being 
caricatured and defamed by clandestine marriages and escapades 
all over the land, does there not seem a -call for such discussion ? Hardly a 
morning or evening paper comes into your possession without reporting 
them, and there are fifty of these occurrences where one is reported, because 
it is the interest of all parties to hush them up ; the victims are, all hours 
of the night, climbing down ladders or crossing over from State to State, 
that they may reach laws of greater laxity, holding a reception six months 
after marriage to let the public know for the first time that a half year 
before they were united in wedlock. Ministers of religion, and justices of 
the peace, and mayors of cities, willingly joining in marriage runaways 
from other States and neighborhoods ; the coach-box and the back seat of 
the princely landau in flirtation ; telegrams flashing across the country for 
the arrest of absconded school-misses, who started off with armful of 
books, and taking rail trains to meet their affianced — in the snow-drifts of 
the great storm that has recently passed over the country some of them, I 
read, have perished — thousands of people in a marriage whose banns have 
never been published ; precipitated conjugality ; bigamy triumphant ; 
marriage a joke ; society blotched all over with a putrefaction on this 
subject which no one but the Almighty God can arrest. 

We admit that clandestinity and escapade are sometimes authorized 
and made right by parental tyranny or domestic serfdom. There have 
been exceptional cases where parents have had a monomania in regard to 
their sons and daughters, demanding their celibacy or forbidding relations 
every way right. Through absurd family ambition parents have some- 
times demanded qualifications and equipment of fortune unreasonable to 
expect or simply impossible. Children are not expected to marry to please 
their parents, but to please themselves. ' Given good morals, means of a 
livelihood, appropriate age and equality of social position, and no parent 
has a right to prohibit a union that seems deliberate and a matter of the 
heart. 

Domestic crankiness has caused more than one elopement. 

I know of a few cases where marriage has been under the red-hot 
anathema of parents and all the neighbors, but God approved, and the 
homes established have been beautifully and positively Edenic. 

But while we have admitted that there are real cases of justifiable, 
rebellion, in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred — yea, in nine hundred and 
ninety-nine cases out of a thousand, these unlicensed departures and decamp- 
ments by moonlight are ruin, temporal and eternal. It is safer for a woman to 



THE HOME LIFE. 55 



jump off the docks of the East River and depend on being able to swim to 
the other shore, or get picked up by a ferry-boat. The possibilities are 
that she may be rescued, but the probability is that she will not. Read the 
story of the escapades in the newspapers for the last ten years, and find me 
a half dozen that do not mean poverty, disgrace, abandonment, police court, 
divorce, death, and hell. " Stolen waters are sweet, and bread eaten in 
secret is pleasant. But he knoweth not that the dead are there." Satan 
presides over the escapade. He introduces the two parties to each other. 
He gets them to pledge their troth. He appoints where they shall meet. 
He shows them where they can find officiating minister or squire. He 
points out to them the ticket office for the rail train. He puts them aboard, 
and when they are going at forty miles the hour, he jumps off and leaves 
them in the lurch ; for, while Satan has a genius in getting people into 
trouble he has no genius for getting people out. 

Robert Pollock thus describes the crazed victim of one of these 
escapades : 

"... Yet had she many days 
Of sorrow in the world, but never wept. 
She lived on alms, and carried in her hand 
Some withered stalks she gathered in the spring. 
When any asked the cause she smiled, and said 
They were her sisters, and would come and watch 
Her grave when she was dead. She never spoke 
Of her deceiver, father, mother, home, 
Or child, or heaven, or hell, or God ; but still 
In lonely places walked, and ever gazed 
Upon the withered stalks, and talked to them ; 
Till, wasted to the shadow of her youth, 
With woe too wide to see beyond, she died." 

— Wedding Ring. 



AVOID MATCHMAKERS. 

AT this point let me warn you not to let a question of this importance 
be settled by the celebrated matchmakers nourishing in almost every 
community. Depend upon your own judgment divinely illumined. These 
brokers in matrimony are ever planning how they can unite impecunious 
innocence to an heiress, or celibate woman to millionaire or marquis, and 
that in many cases makes life an unhappiness. How can any human 
being, who knows neither of the two parties as God knows them, and 



56 THE HOME LIFE, 



who is ignorant of the future, give such direction as you require at such a 
crisis ? 

Take the advice of the earthly matchmaker instead of the divine 
guidance, and you may some day be led to use the words of Solomon, 
whose experience in home life was as melancholy as it was multitudinous. 
One day his palace, with its great wide rooms and great wide doors 
and great wide hall, was too small for him and the loud tongue of a woman 
belaboring him about some of his neglects, and he retreated to the house- 
top to get relief from the fungal bombardment. And while there he saw a 
poor man on one corner of the roof with a mattress for his only furniture, 
and the open sky his only covering. And Sqiomon envies him and cries 
out: "It is better to dwell in the corner of the housetop than with a 
brawling woman in a wide house." And one day during the rainy season the 
water leaked through the roof of the palace and began to drop in a pail or 
pan set there to catch it. And at one side of him all day long the water 
went drop! drop! drop! while on the other side a female companion 
quarrelling about this, and quarrelling about that; the acrimonious and 
petulant words falling on his ear in ceaseless pelting — drop ! drop ! drop ! 
and he seized his pen and wrote : " A continual dropping in a very rainy 
day and a contentious woman are alike." If Solomon had been as prayerful at 
the beginning of his life as he was at the close, how much domestic 
infelicity he would have avoided ? 

But prayer about this will amount to nothing unless you pray soon 
enough. Wait until you are fascinated and the equilibrium of your soul 
is disturbed by a magnetic and exquisite presence, and then you will 
answer your own prayers, and you will mistake your own infatuation for 
the voice of God. — Wedding Ring. 



A MAIDENS IDEAL OF A HUSBAND. 

GENTEEL in personage, 
Conduct, and equipage, 
Noble by heritage, 

Generous and free : 
Brave, not romantic ; 
Learned, not pedantic ; 
Frolic, not frantic ; 
This must he be. 



THE HOME LIFE. 57 



Honor maintaining, 
Meanness disdaining, 
Still entertaining, 

Engaging and new. 
Neat, but not finical; 
Sage, but not cynical; 
Never tyrannical, 

But ever true. 

— Henry Carey. 



w 



TWO ESSENTIAL QUALITIES. 

HAT you want, O man! in a wife, is not a butterfly of the sunshine, 
not a giggling nonentity, not a painted doll, not a gossiping gad- 
about, not a mixture of artificialities which leave you in doubt as to where 
the humbug ends and the woman begins, but an earnest soul, one that 
can not only laugh when you laugh, but weep when you weep. There will be 
wide, deep graves in your path of life, and you will both want steadying 
when you come to the verge of them, I tell you. When your fortune fails 
you will want some one to talk of treasures in heaven, and not charge upon 
you with a bitter " I told you so." As far as I can analyze it, sincerity and 
earnestness are the foundation of all worthy wifehood. Get that, and you 
get all. Fail to get that, and you get nothing but what you will wish you 
never had got. — Ta Image. 



VISIT THE OLD HOME. 

1HOPE that you, the departing daughter, will not forget to write often 
home ; for whatever betide you, the old folks will never lose their interest 
in your welfare. Make visits to them also as often, and stay as long as 
you can, for there will be changes at the old place after awhile. Every 
time you go you will find more gray hairs on father's head, and more 
wrinkles on mother's brow ; and after awhile you will notice that the elastic 
step has become decrepitude. And some day one of the two pillars of your 
early home will fall, and after awhile the other pillar of that home will fall, 
and it will be a comfort to yourself, if, when they are gone, you can feel 
that while you are faithful in your new home you never forgot your old 
home, and the first friends you ever had, and those to whom you are more 
indebted than you ever can be to any one else except to God — I mean your 
father and mother. Alexander Pope put it in effective rhythm when he 
said: 



58 THE HOME LIFE. 

" Me let tlie tender office long engage 
To rock the cradle of reposing age ; 
With lenient arts extend a mother's breath, 
Make languor smile, and smooth the bed of death ; 
Explore the thought, explain the asking eye, 
And keep awhile one parent from the sky." 



INTERMARRIAGE. 

THE Bible forbids intermarriage with the world. The church is not 
to become mixed with the world by unholy alliances with the ungodly. 
Intermarriage so filled the antediluvian world with wickedness that the 
flood became a necessity. We read that the sons of God made love with 
the daughters of men. They expected by intermarriage to exert a 
predominating influence upon the wives, and of begetting and rearing 
up a godly seed, but the experiment proved a disastrous failure. 

To-day the daughters of God are making love with the sons of men. 
Intermarriage with the world, in most cases, fills for mankind the cup of 
life with wormwood and gall. Fond lovers may call this a hard doctrine, 
and we may wound their susceptibilities, but nevertheless we are telling 
them the truth. The history of hundreds and thousands of those who have 
disregarded the divine law on this subject proves it true. Many a girl has 
had a happy connection with the church. It afforded her much satisfaction 
and real enjoyment. But she yoked herself with an unbeliever or a 
worldling. If she got to church she had to go alone, and her treatment 
was such if she went that life became miserable. And remember that 
bitter tears can never undo what you ought never to have done at first. 

It is true, however, that a few religious women have brought their 
husbands to Christ, but many more have made shipwrecks of their own 
faith over the marriage altar. 

The same may take place when a union is effected between two 
professors of religion, from two different religious denominations. The 
husband or the wife being a miserable bigot, knows of no religion but that 
of his or her own sect. He knows no church but his church ; she knows 
no church but her church. At length the children become the subjects of 
dispute and ill-will. The husband authoritatively demands them to go with 
him — the mother claims her share. Harmony between husband and wife 
is destroyed — the family is thrown into confusion and strife. 

Husband and wife are said to be "one flesh;" but there is a great 
difference between a fleshly union and a union of heart and spirit. Is 



THE HOME LIFE. 59 



marriage a Scriptural union, if the one be an infidel or a worldling, and the 
other a believer and a doer of the Word? or if the religious beliefs are 
diametrically opposed to each other? Like oil and water cast into one 
vessel, they may be thrown together under one roof, but life communion, 
such as the marriage relation is designed to afford, they can never have. 
You know well that I have no hostile feelings toward those whose religious 
views are other than mine. I have spoken with distinctness because of a 
sincere desire to guard your most sacred interests, and secure to you, young 
ladies and gentlemen, that happiness without which life will be charmless 
and joyless. I therefore unhesitatingly express the opinion that marriages 
between persons who do not tread in the same religious path are wholly 
unadvisable — nay, wrong, for they tend to invite a future teeming «with 
shadows, clouds and darkness — Madison C. Peters. 



GOOD HOUSEKEEPING. 

A GOOD wife must be a good housekeeper. No matter what a girl's 
accomplishments may be, her education is incomplete if she has not 
some knowledge in the sciences of bake-ology, boil-ology, cook-ology, stitch- 
ology and mend-ology. All experience and observation show that good 
housekeeping is one of the most essential elements of happiness in the 
household. Even if a girl should never be required to do the work herself,, 
she ought to know whether the work is done in the proper manner or not. 

"Give me the fair one in city or country, 
Whose home and its duties are dear to her heart." 

Then, too, do not forget that the rich of to-day are very often 
to-morrow's poor. Croesus, whose name is a synonym for great wealth, was 
himself taken captive, stripped of all his treasures, and in his old age 
supported by the charity of Cyrus. 

The greatest defect in our social system is the aimless way in which 
girls are brought up. Nine-tenths of them are prepared in neither body 
nor mind for the lofty duties and serious responsibilities which marriage 
implies, and marriage, in consequence, has been brought down to a low, 
sensual plane. Let our girls be brought up to have their regular daily 
domestic duties, let idleness be forbidden them, and let every woman be 
clothed with the dignity of a useful life. The great secret of domestic 
tranquility lies in a good square meal. Meredith says : 



<6o . THE HOME LIFE. 



" We may live without poetry, music, and art , 
We may live without conscience; we may live without heart; 
We may live without friends ; we may live without books, 
But civilized man cannot live without cooks. 
He may live without books; what is knowledge but grieving? 
He may live without hope; what is hope but deceiving? 
He may live without love; what is passion but repining? 
But where is the man that can live without dining ?" 

With Dr. Holland we believe that there is but one cure for many of 
our social evils, and that is "universal housekeeping." No hotel or board- 
ing-house, however pleasant, can supply the want created by an instinctive 
heart-longing for some place, "be it ever so lowly," which can be called— 
our home. 

" A charm from the skies seems to hollow us there, 
Which, seek through the world, is ne'er met with elsewhere." 

— Madison C. Peters. 

THE BEAUTIFUL WOMAN. 

VICTOR HUGO says : " There is in this world no function more important 
than that of charming. The forest glade would be incomplete with- 
out the humming-bird. To shed joy, to radiate happiness, to cast light 
upon dark days, to be the golden thread of our destiny, the spirit of grace 
and harmony — is not this to render a service ? Here and there we meet one 
who possesses the power of enchanting all about her; her presence lights 
up the house ; her approach is like a cheering warmth ; she passes by and 
we are content ; she stays awhile and we are happy. She is the Aurora 
with a human face. Is it not a thing divine to have a smile which, none 
know how, has the power to lighten the weight of that enormous chain 
which all in common drag behind them ? " 

When woman does not please she fails to do the work for which she 
was created. And how is she to please ? By the beauty of her body, her 
mind, and her conduct, including her temper and her manners. We have 
never been able to see why moralists should bear a grudge to good looks. 
With Mr. Herbert Spencer, we think that the saying that beauty is but skin 
deep is a skin-deep saying. A fine form, a good figure, a fresh complexion, 
a lovely face, are all outward and visible signs of the physical qualities that 
on the whole conspire to make up a healthy wife and mother. 

But there can not be a high order of even physical beauty where 
indications of mental and moral efficiency are wanting. Talleyrand once 
said of a lovely woman that "her beauty was her least charm." 



THE HOME LIFE, 6r 



THE PROFESSIONAL BEAUTY. 

THE most pitiable creatures I ever saw were the husbands of "pro- 
fessional beauties." They all believe, with Socrates, that beauty is " a 
short-lived tyranny," and with Theophrastus, "a silent cheat." What you 
want, young man, in a wife, is not a toy to play with, a doll to be dressed, 
an r.nament to exhibit, but a "helpmeet" — not simply a help-eat. 

" Woe to him who weds for life 
Some female cipher called a wife ; 
Who, destitute of brains or heart, 
Leaves him not free to act his part ; 
A torture on the tyrant's plan, 
Which chains a carcass to a man ! 
Go wed a Tartar for your bride, 
Or yoke Xanthippe to your side ; 
But let not Hymen's holy chain 
Bind you to some one fair but vain, 
Who, next to dress, loves you best, 
And has no soul to make you blest ! 
Far better is acidity 
Than flat, stale insipidity ; 
And such a female is no woman — 
Her husband must be more than human." 

— Empty Pews. 



THE WORD " LADY." 

THE word "lady," which is derived from the Saxon words hloef, "a 
loaf," and digan, "to serve," means literally one who serves or dis- 
penses bread to the family, as "lord" means the supplier of bread. The 
two words reflect an arrangement of the Almighty which can not be ignored 
by even the most "advanced" confounder of the respective duties of the 
sexes. The natural healthy state of things is for the husband to supply the 
bread and other kinds of food, and for the wife to serve them out to the 
family in the most beautiful and economical way possible. 

He was practical, and had been making love on that basis. She was 
a little that way herself. 

"Can you cook?" he inquired. 

"Can you supply everything to be cooked?" she replied. It was a 
match. 



62 THE HOME LIFE, 



Husbands are too slow in perceiving the value and the difficulty of 
the work of their loaf-servers, and they sometimes forget that a little help is 
worth a great deal of fault finding. "My master is all very well," said the 
dog, "but I wish he had a tail to wag when he is pleased." 

It is true that some loaf-servers do not deserve much approval. That 
good old word "lady" is now so "soiled with all ignoble use" that it is 
more respectable to be called "woman" than "lady." And yet as we have 
seen, "lady" is an honorable word, and one that teaches a useful lesson.. 
Looking back on its original meaning it seems quite wonderful how girls 
and women could ever have thought it unlady-like to go into the kitchen 
and busy themselves with serving bread and other kinds of food to their 
families. What is really unlady-like is to be ignorant of household matters. 
Certainly if any mistress of a moderate income is ashamed of cooking or of 
knowing all about it, her husband will probably have cause to be ashamed, 
both of her and of himself, before many years have passed away. 



THE WORD "*WIFE." 

RUSKIN, in his "Ethics of the Dust," makes the lecturer ask Dora, one 
of his pupils, if she knows what that beautiful word " wife " comes from ? 

Dora (tossing her head) — " I don't think it is a particularly beautiful 
word." 

Lecturer — " Perhaps not. At your ages you may think 'bride' sounds 
better, but 'wife's' the word for wear, depend upon it. It is the great word 
in which the English and Latin languages conquer the French and Greek. 
I hope the French will some day get a word for it, instead of their dreadful 
'femme.' But what do you think it comes from ? " 

Dora — " I never did think about it." 

Lecturer—" Nor you, Sibyl ? " 

Sibyl — "No; I thought it was Saxon, and stopped there." 

Lecturer — "Yes; but the great good of Saxon words is, that they 
usually do mean something. 'Wife' means 'weaver.' You have all the 
right to call yourselves little housewives when you sew neatly." 

Dora — " But I don't think we want to call ourselves little housewives." 

Lecturer — "You must either be housewives or housemoths; remember 
that. In the deep sense, you must either weave men's fortunes and embroider 
them, or feed upon them and bring them to decay." 

Before our great cotton and cloth factories arose, one of the principal 
employments in every house was the fabrication of clothing ; every family 
made its own. 



THE HOME LIFE. 63 



The wool was spun into thread by the girls, who were therefore 
called spinsters ; the thread woven into cloth by their mother, who, accord- 
ingly, was called the weaver or the wife ; and another remnant of this old 
truth we discover in the word heirloom, applied to any old piece of furni- 
ture which has come down to us from our ancestors, and which, though it 
may be a chair or a bed, shows that a loom was once a most important 
article in every house. Thus the word "wife" means weaver, and as Arch- 
bishop Trench well remarks, " In the word itself is wrapped up a hint of 
earnest, indoor, stay-at-home occupations, as being fitted for her who bears 
this name." 



H 



THE WIFE'S DUTY. 

IS house you enter — there to be a light, 
Shining within when all without is night, 
A guardian angel o'er his life presiding, 
Doubling his pleasures, and his cares dividing, 
Winning him back when mingling in the throng, 
Back from the world we love, alas ! too long, 
To fireside happiness, to hours of ease, 
Blest with the charm, the certainty to please. 
How oft your eyes read his, your gentle mind 
To all his wishes, all his thoughts inclined : 
Still subject — ever on the watch to borrow 
Mirth of his mirth, and sorrow of his sorrow. 



THE HONEYMOON. 

JOHNSON says that " the honeymoon is the first month after marriage, 
when there is nothing but tenderness and pleasure." And certainly it 
ought to be the happiest month in our lives, but, like every other good 
thing, it may be spoiled by mismanagement. 

" In the blythe days of honeymoon, 

With Kate's allurements smitten, 
I loved her late, I loved her soon, 

And called her dearest kitten. 
But now my kitten's grown a cat, 

And cross like other wives, 
Oh ! by my soul, my honest Mat, 

I fear she has nine lives." 



64 THE HOME LIFE. 



If the kitten should develop into a cat even before the " blythe days 
of honeymoon " are ended, it is no wonder, considering' the way some of our 
young people spend the first month of married life. 

You do not want excitement during the honeymoon, for are you not 
in love (if you are not you ought to be ashamed of yourself), and is not 
love all-sufficient? Last week you saw the object of your affection only by 
fits and starts, as it were, but now you have him or her all to yourselves. 

" Who hath not felt that breath in the air, 
A perfume and freshness strange and rare, 
A warmth in the light, and a bliss everywhere 

When young hearts yearn together ? 
All sweets below, and all sunny above, 
Oh ! there's nothing in life like making love, 

Save making hay in fine weather." 

Let cynics say what they will, the honeymoon, when not greatly 
mismanaged, is a halcyon period. It is a delightful lull between two 
distinct states of existence, and the married man is not to be envied who 
can not recall pleasant reminiscences of it. — How to be Happy Though 
Married. 



MARRIAGE NOT FOR ALL. 

THAT marriage is the destination of the human race is a mistake that I 
want to correct before I go further. There are multitudes who never 
will marry, and still greater multitudes who are not fit to marry. In Great 
Britain to-day there are nine hundred and forty-eight thousand more women 
than men, and that, I understand, is about the ratio in America. By math- 
ematical and inexorable law, you see, millions of women will never marry. 
The supply for matrimony greater than the demand, the first lesson of 
which is that every woman ought to prepare to take care of herself if need 
be. Then there are thousands of men who have no right to marry, because 
they have become so corrupt of character that their offer of marriage is an 
insult to any good woman. Society will have to be toned up and corrected 
on this subject, so that it shall realize that if a woman who has sacrificed 
her honor is unfitted for marriage, so is any man who has ever sacrificed 
his purity. What right have you, O masculine beast ! whose life has been 
loose, to take under your care the spotlessness of a virgin, reared in the 
sanctity of a respectable home ? Will a buzzard dare to court a dove ? 



THE HOME LIFE. 65 



HUSBANDS SELDOM REFORM. 

DO not unite in marriage with a man of bad habits in the idea of reform- 
ing him. If now, under the restraint of your present acquaintance, 
he will not give up his bad habits, after he has won the prize you can not 
expect him to do so. You might as well plant a violet in the face of a 
northeast storm with the idea of appeasing it. You might as well run a 
schooner alongside of a burning ship with the idea of saving the ship. The 
consequence will be, schooner and ship will be destroyed together. 

The almshouse could tell the story of a hundred women who married 
men to reform them. If, by twenty-five years of age, a man has been grap- 
pled by intoxicants, he is under such headway that your attempt to stop 
him would be very much like running up the track with a wheelbarrow to 
stop a Hudson River express train. What you call an inebriate nowadays 
is not a victim to wine or whiskey, but to logwood and strychnine and nux 
vomica. All these poisons have kindled their fires in his tongue and brain, 
and all the tears of a wife weeping cannot extinguish the flames. Instead 
of marrying a man to reform him, let him reform first, and then give him 
time to see whether the reform is to be permanent. Let him understand 
that if -he can not do without his bad habits for two years, he must do 
without you forever. — Wedding Ring. 



A WOMAN'S QUESTION. 

ADELAIDE PROCTOR starts grave thoughts in the heart of any girl 
who will read the following lines thoughtfully. An expectant bride 
asks : 

" Before I trust my fate to thee, 

Or place my hand in thine ; 
Before I let thy future give 

Color and form to mine ; 
Before I peril all for thee, 
Question thy soul to-night for me. 

I break all slighter bonds, nor feel 

A shadow of regret : 
Is there one link within the past 

That holds thy spirit yet ? 
Or is thy faith as clear and free 
As that which I can pledge to thee ? 



66 THE HOME LIFE. 



Does there within thy dimmest dreams 

A possible future shine, 
Wherein thy life could henceforth breathe 

Untouched, unshared by mine ? 
If so, at any pain or cost, 
Oh, tell me before all is lost. 

Look deeper still. If thou canst feel 

Within thine inmost soul 
That thou hast kept a portion back 

While I have staked the whole, 
Let no false pity spare the blow, 
But in true mercy tell me so. 

Is there within thy heart a need 

That mine can not fulfil? 
One chord that any other hand 

Could better wake or still ? 
Speak now — lest at some future day 
My whole life wither and decay. 

Lives there within thy nature hid 

The demon-spirit change, 
Shedding a passing glory still 

On all things new and strange? — 
It may not be thy fault alone — 
But shield my heart against thine own. 

Couldst thou withdraw thy hand one day 

And answer to my claim 
That Fate, and that to-day's mistake — 

Not thou — had been to blame? 
Some soothe their conscience thus ; but thou 
Wilt surely warn and save me now." 



A BRIDE'S MOTHER TO THE BRIDEGROOM. 

i( F^vEAL gently with her; thou art dear 
I— J Beyond what vestal lips have told, 
And like a lamp from fountain clear, 
She turns confiding to thy fold. 



THE HOME LIFE. 67 



Deal gently, thou, when far away, 

'Mid stranger scenes her foot shall rove, 
Nor let thy tender care decay ; 

The soul of woman lives in love ; 
And shouldst thou, wondering, mark a tear 

Unconscious from her eyelid break, 
Be pitiful, and soothe the fear 

That man's strong heart can ne'er partake. 

A mother yields her gem to thee, 
On thy true breast to sparkle rare ; 

She places 'neath thy household tree 
The idol of her fondest care : 



By all thy treasured hopes of heaven 
Deal gently with my own dear child. 



HOW CAN I TELL HER. 



H" 



'OW can I tell her? 
By her cellar, 
Cleanly shelves and whitened wall. 
I can guess her 
By her dresser, 
By the back staircase and the hall, 
And with pleasure 
Take her measure 
By the way she keeps her broom ; 
Or the peeping 
At the "keeping" 
Of her back and unseen rooms. 
By her kitchen's air of neatness 
And its general completeness, 
Wherein in cleanliness and sweetness 
The rose of order blooms. 



THE HOME LIFE. 



THE HELPFUL WIFE. 

THE Chinese lady glories in her small feet as a badge of helplessness — 
as a proof, in other words, of her exemption from labor. And there is 
even here an ideal of fine ladyhood which glories in hands which tell the 
same story. How different from both these is the picture of the true woman 
drawn by the pen of inspiration ! " She worketh willingly with her hands ; " 
" She girdeth her loins with strength and strengtheneth her arms." The 
very question with which that exquisite portrait is introduced, " Who can 
find a capable woman ? " — for so lexicographers bid us read it — suggests an 
ideal of womanhood as far removed as possible from helpless dependence. 
Not to be a drag, but a spur; not to be a burden, but an ally; not to- 
be a mere guest in this world, to be waited on and admired, but to be a. 
brave, true worker in this mass of toiling, suffering, struggling souls — that 
young woman, is God's call to you. Nor yet is the helpfulness for which 
God made woman the helpfulness of a mere drudge, to go and come at 
man's bidding, to cook his food, to nurse his children, to spend life like the 
Hindoo women in the performance of menial offices behind a screen, while 
society in its proper sense is left to man alone. This may be helpfulness, 
but it is not companionship. God meant woman for a higher, broader work 
than that, and the ideal woman is one who, not despising practical efficiency 
and simple homely ministries, knows how at the same time to make herself 
felt, wherever she moves, as friend, as counsellor, as inspiring soul. How 
different a being is this from the strange compound of whims and prejudices, 
of artful wiles and affected graces, of useless hands and empty head, of inane 
speech and frivolous behavior, of worldliness and vanity, known in some 
circles as the society woman! Alas, for the man to whom the word 
"woman " stands only for this ! But rich the man above the possessor of the 
Kohinoor who in his inmost heart cherishes the image of a true woman- 
wise in counsel, sagacious in insight, prudent in administration, gentle in 
rebuke, discreet in praise, wonderful in comfort, untiring in industry, 
unwearied in patience, undaunted in courage, and unfailing in love. — 
J. H. Worcester. 



BE LOVABLE. 



I CHARGE also the wife to keep herself as attractive after marriage as 
she was before marriage. The reason that so often a man ceases to love 
his wife is because the wife ceases to be lovable. In many cases what 
elaboration of toilet before marriage, and what recklessness of appearance 
after ! The most disgusting thing on earth is a slatternly woman — I mean a 




ylrje Grcrnalperperjfs' Pet. 



THE HOME LIFE. 71 



woman who never combs her hair until she goes out, or looks like a fright 
until somebody calls. That a man married to one of these creatures stays 
at home as little as possible is no wonder. It is a wonder that such a man 
does not go on a whaling voyage of three years, and in a leaky ship. Costly 
wardrobe is not required ; but, O woman ! if you are not willing, by all that 
ingenuity of refinement can effect, to make yourself attractive to your 
husband, you ought not to complain if he seeks in other society those 
pleasant surroundings which you deny him. 



BE INTELLIGENT. 

I CHARGE you, also, make yourself the intelligent companion of your 
husband. With these floods of newspapers and books there is no 
excuse for the wife's ignorance, either about the present or the past. If 
you have no more than a half-hour every day to yourself, you may fill your 
mind with entertaining and useful knowledge. Let the merchant's wife read 
up on all mercantile questions, and the mechanic's wife on all that pertains 
to his style of work, and the professional man's wife on all the legal, or 
medical, or theological, or political discussions of the day. It is very stupid 
for a man, after having been amid active minds all day to find his wife 
without information or opinions on anything. If the wife knows nothing 
about what is going on in the world, after the tea-hour has past, and the 
husband has read the newspaper, he will. have an engagement, and must "go 
and see a man." In nine cases out of ten when a man does not stay at 
home in the evening, unless positive duty calls him away, it is because 
there is nothing to stay for. He would rather talk with his wife than 
anyone else if she could talk as well. — Wedding Ring. 



THE GOOD WIFE. 

EVEN in this unromantic nineteenth century, the following words of 
Ruskin convey a real and literal truth : " The soul's armor is never 
set to the heart unless a woman's hand has braced it, and it is only when 
she braces it loosely that the honor of manhood fails." "There is not a 
war in the world; no, nor an injustice, but you women are answerable for 
it; not in that you have provoked, but in that you have not hindered. 
Men by their nature are prone to fight ; they will fight for any cause, or for 
none. It is for you to choose their cause for them, and to forbid them 
when there is no cause. There is no suffering, no injustice, no misery in 
the earth, but the guilt of it lies with you. Men can bear the sight of it, 



72 THE HOME LIFE. 



but you should not be able to bear it. Men may tread it down without 
sympathy in their own struggle; but men are feeble in sympathy and 
contracted in hope ; it is you only who can feel the depths of pain, and 
conceive the way of its healing." 

A bachelor was once saying: " Next to no wife, a good wife is best." 
He was one of those who hold to the old rhyme : 

" Needles and pins, needles and pins, 
When a man marries his trouble begins." 

" You are quite mistaken," said one who overheard him; "next to a 
good wife, no wife is best." Certainly, if a man's life is not fortunate 
enough to be influenced by a good wife, the next best thing for him is to 
escape the influence of a bad one. 

Most men are what women make them. " Even a bad man in love is 
better than his wont." 

" O woman ! lovely woman ! nature made thee 
To temper man, we had been brutes without thee." 

And the species of brutes we had been is told us by a Provencal 
proverb : 

"Without woman men were but ill-licked cubs." 



THE CLINGING WIFE. 

WOMAN is sometimes compared to a vine, while man is the strong oak 
to which it clings. But there are different kinds of vines. Some 
wreathe a robe of beauty and a crown of glory for the tree, covering it in 
summer days with green leaves and in the autumn hanging among its 
branches rich purple clusters of fruit. Others twine their arms about it, 
only to sap its very life and destroy its vigor, till it stands decaying and 
unsightly, stripped of its splendor, discrowned and fit only for the fire. 

A true woman clings to her husband in holy confidence and loving 
dependence ; she brings out in him whatever is noblest and richest in his 
being; she inspires him with courage and earnestness; she beautifies his 
life ; she softens whatever is rude and harsh in his habits or his spirit ; she 
clothes him with the gentler graces of refined and cultured manhood, while 
she yields to him yet really his queen, ruling his whole life and leading 
him onward and upward in every proper path. 

But there are wives also like the vines which cling only to blight. 
The dependence is weak, indolent helplessness. They lean, but impart no 



THE HOME LIFE. 73 



strength ; they cling, but they sap the life ; they put forth no hand to help ; 
they loll on sofas or promenade the streets ; they dream over sentimental 
novels ; they gossip in drawing-rooms. They are utterly useless, and being 
useless, they become burdens even to manliest, tenderest love. Instead of 
making a man's life stronger, happier, richer, they absorb strength, impair 
usefulness, hinder success and cause failures. — Home Making. 



MATRIMONIAL HARMONY. 

NEVER be ashamed to apologize when you have done wrong in domestic 
affairs. Let that be a law of your household. The best thing I ever 
heard of my grandfather, whom I never saw, was this : that once, having 
uprighteously rebuked one of his children, he himself having lost his 
patience, and, perhaps, having been misinformed of the child's doings, 
found out his mistake, and in the evening of the same day gathered all his 
family together, and said : " Now, I have one explanation to make, and one 
thing to say. Thomas, this, morning, I rebuked you very unfairly. I am 
very sorry for it. I rebuked you in the presence of the whole family, and 
now I ask your forgiveness in their presence." It must have taken some 
courage to do that. It was right, was it not ? Never be ashamed to 
apologize for domestic inaccuracy. Find out the points ; what are the 
weak points, if I may call them so, of your companion, and then stand 
aloof from them. 

Do not carry the fire of your temper too near the gunpowder ! If the 
wife be easily fretted by disorder in the household, let the husband be 
careful where he throws his slippers. If the husband come home from the 
store with his patience all exhausted, do not let the wife unnecessarily 
cross his temper ; but both stand up for your rights, and I will promise the 
everlasting sound of the war whoop. Your life will be spent in making up, 
and marriage will be to you an unmitigated curse. Cowper said : 

" The kindest and the happiest pair, 
Will find occasion to forbear ; 
And something, every day they live, 
To pity, and perhaps forgive." 

— Talmage. 

GODLESS MOTHERS. 

I ADVISE, also, that you make your chief pleasure' circle around about 
that home. It is unfortunate when it is otherwise. If the husband 
spend the most of his nights away from home, of choice, and not of neces- 
sity, he is not the head of the household ; he is only the cashier. If the 



74 THE HOME LIFE. 



wife throw the cares of the household in the servant's lap, and then spend 
five nights of the week at the opera or theatre, she may clothe her children 
with satins and laces and ribbons that would confound a French milliner, 
but they are orphans. O, it is sad when a child has to say its prayers 
alone because mother has gone off to the evening entertainment! In India 
they bring children and throw them to the crocodiles, and it seems very 
cruel ; but the jaws of New York and Brooklyn dissipation are swallowing 
down more little children to-day than all the monsters that ever crawled 
upon the banks of the Ganges ! 

I have seen the sorrow of a godless mother on the death of a child 
she had neglected. It was not so much grief that she felt from the fact 
that the child was dead as the fact that she had neglected it. She said: 
" If I had only watched over and cared for the child, I know God would not 
have taken it." The tears came not; it was a dry, blistering tempest — a 
scorching simoon of the desert. When she wrung her hands it seemed as 
if she would twist her fingers from their sockets. When she seized her 
hair it seemed as if she had, in wild terror, grasped a coiling serpent with 
her right hand. 

No tears ! Comrades of the little one came in and wept over the 
coffin ; neighbors came in, and the moment they saw the still face of the 
child the shower broke. No tears for her. God gives tears as the summer 
rain to the parched soul; but in all the universe the driest and hottest, the 
most scorching and consuming thing is a mother's heart if she has neglected 
her child when once it is dead. God may forgive her, but she will never 
forgive herself. The memory will sink the eyes deeper into the sockets, 
and pinch the face, and whiten the hair, and eat up the heart with vultures 
that will not be satisfied, forever plunging deeper their iron beaks. O, 
you wanderers from home, go back to your duty ! The brightest flowers in 
all the earth are those which grow in the garden of a Christian household, 
clambering over the porch of a Christian home.— Talmage. 



GROWING TOGETHER. 

UNLESS married people are so sympathetic that they grow together, 
"like to a double cherry, seeming parted," the never-ceasing round of 
intercourse between them may cause abrupt, unpolite behavior. At 
breakfast, at luncheon, at dinner, more or less in the evening, at night, in 
the morning — all "marriage." 

i There is generally greater harmony when a husband's duties neces- 

sitate his remaining several hours of the day from home. 



THE HOME LIFE. 75 



" For this relief much thanks," will be the sentiment of a grateful 
wife. And to the husband, on his return, home will appear far sweeter than 
if he had idled about the house all day with nothing to do but torment 
his wife. 

Richter says that distance injures love less than nearness. People 
are more polite when they do not see too much of each other. 

Let the husband then have a "den" or "growlery" to which he may 
retire when conscious that the animal should be marked "dangerous," and 
the wife a boudoir where she may be alone when inclined " to pout or be 
sulky;" which is the suggestive explanation given by my dictionary of the 
French term bouder, from which comes our word boudoir or sulking-room — 
an apartment not less necessary surely than a smoking or billiard-room. 
Such expedients alleviate the "very-much-married" feeling to which 
reference has been made. 



DOMESTIC ECONOMY. 

* ( IV /| Y dear fellow," said Lavender, "it's all very nice to talk about 
1 V 1 economizing and keeping a rigid account of expenses, and that 
sort of thing ; but I've tried it. Two weeks ago, I stepped in on my way 
home Saturday night, and bought just the gayest little Russian leather, 
cream-laid account-book you ever saw, and a silver pencil to match it. I 
said to my wife after supper : ' My dear, it seems to me it costs a lot of 
money to keep house.' She sighed and said: 'I know it does, Lavy, but I 
can't help it. I'm just as economical as I can be. I don't spend half as 
much for candy as you do for cigars.' I never take any notice of personali- 
ties, so I sailed right ahead. ' I believe, my dear, that if we were to keep 
a strict account of every thing we spend we could tell just where to cut 
down. I've bought you a little account-book, and every Monday I'll give 
you some money, and you can set it down on one side; and then, during 
the week, you can set down on the other side everything you spend. And 
then on Saturday night we can go over it and see just where the money 
goes, and how we can boil things down a little.' Well, sir, she was just 
delighted — thought it was a first-rate plan, and the pocket account-book 
was lovely — regular David Copperfield and Dora business. Well, sir, the 
next Saturday night we got through supper, and she brought out that 
account-book, as proud as possible, and handed it over for inspection. On 
one side was, 'Received from Lavy, 50 dols.' That's all right! Then I 
looked on the other page, and what do you think was there? ' Spent it allT 
Then I laughed, and of course she cried, and we gave up the account-book 
racket on the spot by mutual consent." 



76 THE HOME LIFE. 



Many a man has had occasion to sing with more of sadness than of 
glee: 

" Heaven bless our wives, they fill our lives 
Like bees with sweetest honey, 
They mend our socks, they soothe life's shocks, 
But don't they spend the money !" 



THE WORD "HUSBAND." 

THE word "husband" is an Anglo-Saxon word, which means the band of 
the house, the one who organizes it, and holds it together, and 
controls it. The wife is his chief assistant in this work, though she is often 
the more efficient of the two— the real band of the house. 



RULES FOR THE HUSBAND. 

HUSBAND, love your wife. 
i. Never find fault with her before others. 

2. Per contra, remember the counsel of the good Book : Her husband 
shall praise her in the gates ; that is, before folks. 

3. Bear all her burdens for her ; even then she'll bear more than you 
do, in spite of you. 

4. If you want her to submit to your judgment, never ask her to 
submit to your selfishness. 

5. A woman's life is made up of little things. Make her life happy 
by little courtesies. 

6. Love is a wife's only wages. Don't scrimp in your pay. 

— Christian Union. 



GENTLEMEN, FULFIL YOUR CONTRACTS. 

NOW, be honest and pay your debts. You promised to make her happy. 
Are you making her happy ? You who are an honest man in other 
things, and feel the importance of keeping a contract. If you have induced 
her into a conjugal partnership under certain pledges of kindness and 
valuable attention, and then have failed to fulfil your word, you deserve to 
have a suit brought against you for getting goods under false pretenses, 
and then you ought to be mulcted in a large amount of damages. 

My brother, do not get mad at what I say, but honestly compare the 
promises you made, and see whether you have kept them. Some of you 



THE HOME LIFE. 77 



spent every evening of the week with, your betrothed before marriage, and 
since then you spent every evening away, except you have influenza or 
some sickness on account of which the doctor says you must not go out. 
You used to fill your conversation with interjections of adulation, and now 
you think it sounds silly to praise the one who ought to be more attractive 
to you as the years go by, and life grows in severity of struggle and 
becomes more sacred by the baptism of tears — tears over losses, tears over 
graves. Compare the way some of you used to come in the house in the 
evening, when you were attempting the capture of her affections, and the 
way some of you come into the house in the evening now. 

Then what politeness, what distillation of smiles, what graciousness, 
sweet as the peach orchard in blossom week ! Now, some of you come in 
and put your hat on the rack and scowl, and say : " Lost money to-day !" 
and you sit down at the table and criticise the way the food is cooked. 
You shove back before the others are done eating, and snatch up the even- 
ing paper and read, oblivious of what has been going on in that home all 
day. The children are in awe before the domestic autocrat. Bubbling over 
with fun, yet they must be quiet ; with healthful curiosity, yet they must 
ask no questions. The wife has had enough annoyances in the nursery, 
and parlor, and kitchen, to fill her nerves with nettles and spikes. As you 
have provided the money for food and wardrobe, you feel you have done all 
required of you. Toward the good cheer, and the intelligent improvement, 
and the moral entertainment of that home, which at the longest can last 
but a few years, you are doing nothing. You seem to have no realization 
of the fact that soon these children will be grown up or in their sepulchres, 
and will be far removed from your influence, and that the wife will soon 
end her earthly mission, and that house will be occupied by others, and you 
yourself will be gone. 

Gentlemen, fulfil your contracts. Christian marriage is an affectional 
bargain. In heathen lands a man wins his wife by achievements. In some 
countries wives are bought by the payment of so many dollars, as so many 
cattle or sheep. In one country the man gets on a horse and rides down 
where a group of women are standing, and seizes one of them by the hair, 
and lifts her, struggling and resisting, on his horse, and if her brothers and 
friends do not overtake her before she gets to the jungle, she is his lawful 
wife. In another land, the masculine candidate for marriage is beaten by 
the club of the one whom he would make his bride. If he cries out under 
the pounding, he is rejected. If he receives the blows uncomplainingly, 
she is his by right. Endurance, and bravery, and skill, decide the marriage 
in barbarous lands, but Christian marriage is a voluntary bargain, in which 
you promise protection, support, companionship and love. 



THE HOME LIFE. 



Many men are more kind to every body else's wives than to their own 
wives. They will let the wife carry a heavy coal-scuttle upstairs, and will 
at one bound clear the width of a parlor to pick up some other lady's pocket- 
handkerchief. Many husbands bestow attention upon others which they 
ought to bestow upon their wives. — Wedding Ring. 



THE FIRST DISPUTE. 

BEWARE of the first dispute. " Man and wife," says Jeremy Taylor, 
" are equally concerned to avoid all offences of each other in the 
beginning of their conversation ; a very little thing can blast an infant 
blossom ; and the breath of the south can shake the little rings off the 
vine, when first they begin to curl like the locks of a new weaned boy; but 
when by age and consolidation they stiffen into the hardness of a stem, and 
have, by the warm embraces of the sun and the kisses of heaven brought 
forth their clusters, they can endure the storms of the north, and the loud 
noises of a tempest, and yet never be broken. So are the early unions of 
an unfixed marriage ; watchful and observant, jealous and busy, inquisitive 
and careful, and are apt to take alarm at every unkind word. After the 
hearts of the man and the wife are endeared and hardened by a mutual 
confidence and experience, longer than artifice and pretence can last, there 
are a great many remembrances, and some things present, that dash all 
little unkindnesses in pieces." 

Every little dispute between man and wife is dangerous. It forces 
good humor out of its channel, undermines affection, and insidiously, 
though perhaps insensibly, wears out, and at last, utterly destroys that 
cordiality which is the life and soul of matrimonial felicity. As, however, 
" it's hardly in a body's power to keep at times from looking sour," undue 
importance ought not to be attached to " those little tiffs that sometimes 
cast a shade on wedlock." Often they are, as the poet observes, "love in 
masquerade " 

" And family jars, look we but o'er the rim, 
Are filled with honey, even to the brim." 



A WOMAN'S COMPLAINT. 

[KNOW that deep within your heart of hearts 
You hold me shrined apart from common things, 
And that my step, my voice, can bring to you 
A gladness that no other presence brings ; 



THE HOME LIFE. 79 



And yet, dear love, through all the weary days, 
You never speak one word of tenderness, 

Nor stroke my hair, nor softly clasp my hand 
Within your own in loving, mute caress. 

You think, perhaps, I should be all content 
To know so well the loving place I hold 

Within your life, and so you do not dream 
How much I long to hear the story told. 

You cannot know how, when we two sit alone, 
And tranquil thoughts within your mind are stirred, 

My heart is crying like a tired child 

For one fond look, one gentle, loving word. 

I weary sometimes of the rugged way ; 

But should you say, ' Through thee my life is sweet, 
The dreariest desert that our path could cross 

Would suddenly grow green beneath my feet. 

What matters that our granaries are filled 
With all the richest harvest's golden stores ; 

If we who own them cannot enter in, 

But famished stand before the close-barred doors ? 

And so 'tis sad that those who should be rich 
In that true love which crowns our earthly lot, 

Go praying with white lips from day to day 
For love's sweet tokens, and receive them not. 



ADVICE TO YOUNG MARRIED COUPLES. 

BEFORE marriage and afterward,, let them learn to centre all their 
hopes of real lasting happiness in their own fireside ; let them cherish 
the faith that in home, and all the virtues which the love of home engenders, 
lies the Only true source of domestic felicity ; let them believe, that round 
the household gods contentment and tranquillity cluster in their gentlest 
and most graceful forms; and that many weary hunters of happiness 
through the noisy world have learnt this truth too late, and found a cheerful 
spirit and a quiet mind only at home, at last. 

How much may depend on the education of daughters, and the 
conduct of mothers — how much of the brightest part of our old national 



8o THE HOME LIFE. 



character may be perpetuated by their wisdom or frittered away by their 
folly — how much of it may have been lost already, and how much more in 
danger of vanishing every day — are questions too weighty for discussion 
here, but well deserving a little serious consideration from all young 
couples, nevertheless. 

To that one young couple, on whose bright destiny the thoughts of 
nations are fixed, may youth look and not in vain, for an example. That 
one couple, blest and favored as they are, may they learn, that even the 
glare and glitter of a court, the splendor of a palace, and the pomp and 
glory of a throne, yield in their power of conferring happiness to domestic 
worth and virtue. From that one young couple may they learn, that the 
crown of a great empire, costly and jewelled though it be, gives place in 
the estimation of a queen to the plain gold ring that links her woman's 
nature to that of tens of thousands of her humble subjects, and guards 
in her woman's heart one secret store of tenderness, whose proudest boast 
shall be that it knows no royalty save Nature's own, and no pride of birth 
but being the child of Heaven ! 

So shall the highest couple in the land for once hear the truth, when 
men throw up their caps, and cry with loving shouts — 

"God Bless Them!" 

— Char la Dickens. 



FAULT-FINDING. 

THERE are certain rocks on which home happiness, if it strike, is very 
likely to split. One of these is fault-finding. The habit of grumbling is 
fatal to family peace, and if indulged in habitually by any single member of 
a household is sure to disturb the harmony of all the rest. Like most bad 
habits, this is formed insensibly ; and many inveterate and fretful fault- 
finders are so unconscious of their besetting sin that in their own eyes they 
are models of amiability. " If," they say, " so and so were done or undone 
we would never complain, but — " 

Alas! in most houses there are "ifs" and "buts." The most delight- 
ful and lovable people are only human after all, and have their nervous 
days and their forgetful days and their days of being generally out of sorts 
and blue. Very many people have their sharp points, which must be 
avoided, and their weak places, which are getting in the way; and, in fact, 
there are very few of us who have not somewhere a spot where it would be 
quite safe to erect such a warning-post as in winter stands at intervals on 
the skating pond, "Danger here!" To live with people in the familiarity 
and complete unreserve of domestic life, and to live so gently and pleasantly 



THE HOME LIFE. 81 

that no one's foibles are made manifest, no one's feelings wounded, 
and no one's personality unjustly pervaded, implies tact, unselfishness, 
and almost saintly patience on the part of all concerned. There are homes 
where love is completely the motive power, and courtesy so unfailingly the 
custom, that a ripple of trouble rarely disturbs their calm. Unfortunately 
such homes are not in the majority. In far too many houses there are often 
undignified and unnecessary scenes at breakfast, dinner, and tea, which are 
not quite quarrels, but which are probably worse in their effects. As a 
thunder-storm clears the air and makes the sunshine seem brighter, so a 
good, honest quarrel once in a great while may — we say it doubtfully, however 
—make everything lovely afterward. (Lovers, by the way, have been known 
to quarrel for the pleasure of making up and being friends again.) But a 
feeble, intermittent, never-ending, still-beginning patter of fault-finding 
wears away heart and soul and strength. Fancy being R. Wilfer, and 
living with that angelic creature, his wife ! 

Fault-finding people usually have their favorite provocations. Thus 
while the man of the house, who has fallen into the most unmanly way of 
scolding indiscriminately, anything will afford an occasion, from a forgotten 
cobweb to a knot in the baby's shoestring. It is an utter impossibility for 
him to pass by the carving-knife. Carving-knives are edge-tools that seem 
to have been primarily designed to try the masculine temper. " My dear," 
says the gentleman, laying down knife and fork, with the air of a martyr, 
" this knife is dull again. It is singular that we never can have a sharp 
knife in this house." Precisely as though every other house in the place were 
furnished to perfection with the finest cutlery, and this only were deficient. 
After carving-knives, coffee is a convenient objective point. It is too weak 
or too strong ; it is cold ; it is thick ; it is everything and anything but right. 
As for the mistress, when she is a scold, farewell to comfort. "All hope 
abandon ye who enter here " might appropriately be inscribed over the door 
of every abode where presides a fault-finding wife. Feminine resources are 
inexhaustible, feminine opportunities are endless; and as for the feminine 
tongue, Solomon said ages ago, and the accumulated wisdom of the world 
to-day confirms his conviction, that a dwelling on the house-top would be 
infinitely pleasanter than life with "a brawling woman in a wide house." 

"But there are legitimate occasions for fault-finding, are there not?" 
inquires somebody. Very likely, and when such arise meet them, as it is 
the best way to meet every difficulty in life, fairly, squarely and bravely. 
Say the act is wrong in plain words, and have done with it. It is one thing 
to reprimand or provoke where reproof or rebuke is a duty; it is quite 
another to keep up a scattering fire of small shot in the way of sarcasm, 
innuendo and complaint for half a day at a time. 



82 THE HOME LIFE. 



The true remedy in nine cases out of ten, when circumstances are 
contrary, is to 'accept the situation. "Beware of desperate steps — the 
darkest day, live till to-morrow, will have passed away." The most 
aggravating servant, the most provoking neighbor, and the most wilful 
child are not proof against serene self-control and generous kindness, while 
fault-finding sows seed that comes up in a harvest of new antagonisms. 
Accept the situation, whatever it is, with courage and cheerfulness, and 
remember that neither nerves, temper, carving-knives nor coffee were ever 
in the slightest degree improved by scolding. — Margaret E. Sangster. 



SHAFTS AT RANDOM SENT. 

HUSBAND and wife should burn up in the bonfire of first love all 
hobbies and "little ways" that could possibly prevent home from 
being sweet. How happy people they are, though married, who can say 
of each other what Mrs. Hare says of her husband, in " Memorials of a 
Quiet Life:" "I never saw anybody so easy to live with, by whom the daily 
petty things of life were passed over so lightly; and then there is the 
refinement of feeling which is not to be told in its influence upon trifles." 

Sydney Smith's definition of marriage is well known. " It resembles 
a pair of shears, so joined that they cannot be separated ; often moving in 
opposite directions, yet always punishing anyone who comes between 
them." Certainly those who go between deserve to be punished; and 
in whatever else they may differ, married people should agree to defend 
themselves from the well-meant, perhaps, but irritating interference of 
friends. Above all, they should remember the proverb about the home- 
washing of soiled linen, for, as old Fuller said : " Jars concealed are half 
reconciled ; while, if generally known, 'tis a double task to stop the breach 
at home and men's mouths abroad." 

" What is the reason," said one Irishman to another, " that you and 
your wife are always disagreeing ?" 

" Because," replied Pat, "we are both of one mind — she wants to be 
master and so do I." 

Selfishness crushes out love, and most of the couples who are living 
without affection for each other, with cold and dead hearts, with ashes 
where there should be a bright and holy flame, have destroyed themselves 
by caring too much for themselves and too little for each other. 

Benjamin Franklin wrote to a young friend upon his marriage : " I 
am glad you are married, and congratulate you most cordially upon it. You 
are now in the way of becoming a useful citizen, and you have escaped the 



THE HOME LIFE. 83 



unnatural state of celibacy — the fate of many here who never intended it, 
but who, having too long postponed the change of their condition, find at 
length that it is too late to think of it, and so live all their lives in a 
situation that greatly lessens a man's value. An odd volume of a set of 
books bears not the value of its proportion to the set. What think you of 
the odd half of a pair of scissors? It can't well cut anything — it may 
possibly serve to scrape a trencher." 

" Ven you're a married man, Samivel," says Mr. Weller, to his son 
Sam, "you'll understand a good many things as you don't understand now, 
but vether it's vorth vile going through so much to learn so little, as the 
charity boy said ven he got to the end of the alphabet, is a matter of taste. 
I rayther think it isn't." Strange that a philosopher of Mr. Weller's 
profundity should underestimate in this way the value of matrimony as a 
teacher. We have it on the authority of a man thrice married, that his 
first wife cured his romance, the second taught him humility, and the third 
made him a philosopher. 

There is a sort of would-be wit which consists in jesting at the 
supposed bondage of the married state. The best answer to this plentiful 
lack of wit is the fact that some of the best of men have kissed the shackles 
which a wife imposes, and have either thought or said, "If this be slavery, 
who'd be free?" Luther, speaking of his wife, said, "I would not exchange 
my poverty with her for all the riches of Croesus without her." Not long 
ago, when speaking of his wife, Prince Bismarck said, " She it is who has 
made me what I am." 

It is often the case when you see a great man, like a ship, sailing 
proudly along the current of renown, that there is a little tug — his wife — 
whom you cannot see, but who is directing his movements and supplying 
the motive power. This truth is well illustrated by the anecdote told of 
Lord Eldon, who, when he had received the great seal at the hands of the 
king, when about to retire, was addressed by his Majesty with the words, 
" Give my remembrance to Lady Eldon." The chancellor in acknowledging 
the condescension intimated his ignorance of Lady Eldon's claim to such a 
notice. "Yes, yes," the king answered, "I know how much I owe to Lady 
Eldon. I know that you would have made yourself a country curate, and 
that she has made you my Lord Chancellor." 

In many a marriage made for gold, 

The bride is bought and the bridegroom sold. 

Bishop Taylor said : "If you are for pleasure, marry; if you prize 
rosy health, marry. A good wife is heaven's last best gift to a man ; his 

6 



84 THE HOME LIFE 



angel of mercy ; minister of graces innumerable ; his gem of many virtues ; 
his casket of jewels; her voice his sweetest music; her smiles his brightest 
day; her kiss, the guardian of innocence; her arms, the pale of his safety, 
the balm of his health, the balsam of his life ; her industry his surest 
wealth ; her economy his safest steward ; her lips his faithful counsellors ; 
her bosom, the softest pillow of his cares, and her prayers, the ablest 
advocates of Heaven's blessings on his head." 

I pity from my heart the unfortunate man who has a bad wife. 
She is shackles on his feet, a burden to his shoulders, palsy to his hand, 
smoke to his eyes, vinegar to his teeth, a thorn to his side and a dagger to 
his heart. 

You have tied a knot with your tongue you cannot undo with your 
teeth. 

A man's best fortune or his worst is his wife. — English Proverbs. 

The day you marry you kill or cure yourself.— Spanish Proverb. 

William Penn says, " Never marry but for love ; but see that thou 
lovest what is lovely." Do not imagine because you are miserable apart, 
you will be happy together. 

Hasty marriage seldom proveth well. — Shakespeare. 

The reason why so few marriages are happy is because young ladies 
spend their time in making nets, not in making cages. — Swift. 

Venus, the goddess of love and beauty, is reported to have sprung 
from the foam of the sea. When she appeared among the gods, all were 
charmed with her beauty, and each demanded her for his wife. Jupiter, 
the father of the gods and men, gave her to Vulcan, in gratitude for the 
thunderbolts he had forged for him. Thus the most beautiful of the 
goddesses became the wife of the most ill-favored of the gods ; an illustration 
of the usual fate of beauty. 

Mothers who force their daughters into interested marriages are 
worse than the Ammonites, who sacrificed their children to Moloch — the 
latter undergoing a speedy death ; the former suffering years of torture, but 
too frequently leading to the same result. — Lord Rochester. 

The Cherokee marriage ceremony is very impressive. The man and 
woman join hands over running water, to indicate that their lives are 
thenceforth to flow on in the one stream. 

Flirting is trifling with the most sacred and serious relations of 
human life. Marriage can never be esteemed if courtship be made a round 



THE HOME LIFE. • 85 



of low frolic and fun. Let all your dealings with women be frank, honest 
and noble. Be this your motto : I will treat every woman I meet as I would 
wish another man to treat my innocent, confiding sister. 

Matthew Henry tells of a couple who were both passionate naturally, 
but who lived very happily together by simply observing this rule : Never to 
be both angry at the same time. Take turn about. 

In the decision of the sacred question of marriage, be not influenced 
by appearances. The maintaining of appearances is the great snare and 
evil of our times. Never judge a man by the coat he wears. It may be 
borrowed or unpaid for. Remember that the deepest rascals are often the 
finest clothed and smoothest tongued. With what great care you purchase 
a good df ess ! How you hold it up to the light, that you may see every 
shade and detect any defect! Be not less considerate in that important 
event which is to link your life and destiny with another. Be satisfied with 
nothing but sober reality. — Empty Pews. 

Be your own match-maker. Depend on personal knowledge of the 
life and character of the individual who asks your hand and would link his 
life with yours. Marry into a family which you have long known. 

The extravagance of girls prevents thousands of young men from 
marrying. Thousands of young men in this city, already engaged, are 
putting off marriage from year to year until they can make enough 
to support their wives. Too many young women want to begin where 
their parents left off. Too many young men are too proud themselves to 
commence married life in a quiet, economical way. If they cannot continue 
their private luxuries and support their wives in style, they put off marriage. 
Begin as your fathers began, and work up, save up, grow up. This is the 
only way to get up. Young ladies and gentlemen, I beseech you be true to 
the best feelings of your hearts, careless about what the world will say, and 
pure and happy Christian homes will be more abundant. — Empty Pews. 

When first engaged 

She used to write 
On monogram paper 

Of creamy white. 

But since we're married — 

It's rather hard — 
She says all she wants 

On a postal-card. 



8rf THE HOME LIFE. 



Maidens like moths are ever caught by glare, 

Mammon wins his way where seraphs might despair. — Byron. 

Artemus Ward tells us that when he was at Salt Lake he was intro- 
duced to Brigham Young's mother-in-law. "I can't exactly tell you how 
many there is of her, but it's a good deal." Married people require to drive 
gently when there is in the way the stumbling-block of "a good deal" of 
mother or other relations-in-law. Certainly Adam and Eve were in Paradise 
in this respect. " When I want a nice, snug day all to myself," says an 
ingenious wife, " I tell dear George that dear mother is coming, and then I 
see nothing of him till one in the morning." 'Are your domestic relations 
agreeable?" was the question put to an unhappy specimen of humanity. 
"O, my domestic relations are all right; it is my wife's relations, that are 
causing all the trouble." An Irishman, but a short time married, was 
looking unusually sad. "What's the matter?" inquired a friend. He 
replied : " There isn't room in the house for my mother-in-law, who my wife 
says must live with us, and so we have divided the house." "And which 
side did you get?" "O, bedad, I got the outside." But many a man's best 
friend is his mother-in-law. A good son-in-law and a dutiful daughter-in- 
law will make a good mother-in-law. 

Poor Caudle, as a rule, thought discretion the better part of valor, 
and sought refuge in the arms of soothing slumber ; but there are some 
men who do not allow their wives to have it all their own way without at 
least an occasional protest. "Do you pretend to have as good a judgment 
as I have?" said an enraged wife to her husband. "Well, no," he replied, 
deliberately, " our choice of partners for life shows that my judgment is not 
to be compared to yours." When they have a "few words," however, the 
woman usually has the best of it. " See, here," said a fault-finding husband, 
"we must have things arranged in this house so that we shall know where 
everything is kept." "With all my heart," sweetly answered his wife, 
" and let us begin with your late hours, my love. I should much like to know 
where they are kept." 

"Eve kept silence in Eden to hear her husband talk," said a gentle- 
man to a lady friend, and then added, in a melancholy tone, 'Alas! there 
have been no Eves since." "Because," quickly retorted the lady, "there 
have been no husbands worth listening to." 

Deceive not thyself by over-expecting happiness in the married state. 
Look not therein for contentment greater than God will give, or a creature 
in this world can receive, namely, to be free from all inconveniences. 
Marriage is not like the hill Olympus, wholly clear, without clouds. — Fuller. 



THE HOME LIFE. 87 



Like government, marriage must be a series of compromises; and 
however warm the love of both parties may be, it will very soon cool unless 
they learn the golden rule of married life, "To bear and forbear." In 
matrimony, as in so many other things, a good beginning is half the battle. 
But how easily may good beginnings be frustrated through infirmity of 
temper and other causes, and then we must "tread those steps with sorrow 
which we might have trod with joy." 

"I often think," says Archdeacon Farrar, "that most of us in life are 
like many of those sight-seers who saunter through this (Westminster) 
Abbey. Their listless look upon its grandeur and its memorials furnishes 
an illustration of the aspect which we present to higher powers as we wander 
restlessly through the solemn minster-aisles of life. We talk of human 
misery, how many of us derive from life one-tenth part of what God meant 
to be its natural blessedness ? Sit out in the open air on a summer day, 
and how many of us have trained ourselves to notice the sweetness and the 
multiplicity of the influences which are combining for our delight — the song 
of birds ; the breeze-beating balm upon our foreheads ; the genial warmth ; 
the delicate odor of ten thousand flowers? " 

What is said here of life in general is also true of married life. We 
go through the temple of Hymen without noticing, much less appreciating, 
its beauty. Certainly a few people gain as much happiness from their 
marriage as they might. They expect to find happiness without taking any 
trouble to make it, or they are so selfishly occupied that they can not enjoy 
it. In this way many a husband and wife begin to value each other only 
when death is at hand to separate them. 

" Married life should be a sweet, harmonious song, and like one of 
Mendelssohn's 'without words.'" 

The last word is the most dangerous of infernal machines. Husband 
and wife should no more fight to get it than they would struggle for the 
possession of a lighted bomb-shell. 

Here lies, returned to clay, 

Miss Arabella Young, 
Who on the first of May 

Began to hold her tongue. 

Six things are requisite to make a happy home. Integrity must be 
the architect and tidiness the upholsterer. It must be warmed by affection 
and lightened up with cheerfulness, and industry must be the ventilator, 
renewing the atmosphere and bringing in fresh salubrity day by day, while 



THE HOME LIFE. 



over all, as a protecting canopy and glory, nothing will suffice except the 
blessings of God. — Dr. Hamilton. 

Speak kindly in the morning; it lightens the cares of the day and 
makes the household and all other affairs move along more smoothly. 

Speak kindly at night, for it may be that before the dawn some 
loved one may finish his or her space of life, and it will be too late to ask 
for forgiveness. 

Speak kindly at all times ; it encourages the downcast, cheers the 
sorrowing, and very likely awakens the erring to earnest resolves to do 
better, with strength to keep them. 

Kind words are balm to the soul. They oil up the entire machinery 
of life, and keep it in good running order. 

Many parents are wanting in courtesy to their children. They speak 
to them roughly, violently and insultingly, and so inflict painful wounds on 
their self-respect. Do not needlessly refer to their faults and follies. Be 
considerate. Never allude to the personal defects to which they are already 
keenly sensitive. Do not needlessly interfere with their plans, and impose 
on them unreasonable and fruitless sacrifices. Find as little fault with 
your children as possible, and praise them as much as you can. — Empty Pezvs. 

Reserve all your social charms for strangers abroad; be dull at home; 
don't talk; forbid your children to come into the nicely-furnished rooms; 
have no amusements and no pleasures ; make home as irksome as possible ; 
forget that you were once young — and your children will make every 
possible effort to get from home at night and run the streets. — Empty Pews. 

Home is the resort 

Of love, of joy, of peace, and plenty, where 
Supporting and supported, polish'd friends, 
And dear relations mingle into bliss. 

— James Thomson. 

Sweet is the smile of home ; the mutual look 

Where hearts are of each other sure ; 
Sweet all the joys that crowd the household nook, 

The haunt of all affections pure. 

— John Keble. 

"She always made home happy " — epitaph in a church-yard, inscribed 
by a husband after sixty years of wedded life. 



THE HOME LIFE. 89 



GOOD MANNERS AT HOME. 

1. Shut every door after you, without slamming - it. 

2. Never stamp, jump or run in the house. 

3. Never call to persons up-stairs or in the next room ; if you wish 
to speak to them, go quietly where they are. 

4. Always speak kindly and politely to the servants, if you would 
have them do the same to you. 

5. When told to do or not to do a thing by either parent, never ask 
why you should or should not do it. 

6. Tell of your own faults, but not of those of your brothers and 
sisters. 

7. Carefully clean the mud and snow from your boots or shoes before 
entering the house. 

8. Be prompt at every meal. 

9. Never sit down at the table or in the parlor with dirty hands or 
tumbled hair. 

10. Never interrupt any conversation, but wait patiently for your 
turn to speak. 

11. Never reserve your good manners for strangers, but be equally 
polite at home and abroad. 



A room without pictures is like a room without windows. Pictures 
are loop-holes of escape to the soul, leading to other scenes and other 
spheres. Pictures are consolers of loneliness; they are books, they are 
histories, they are sermons, which can be read without the trouble of 
turning over the leaves. — Dr. Downing. 

Two Christians met at a crossing on a Monday morning. Both were 
parents. As was natural, the conversation turned upon the services of the 
preceding day. The first speaker opened by saying: "We had a sermon 
last night from our minister on the religious instruction of children. Why 
didn't you come and hear it?" "Because," said the other, "I was at home 
it ! " 



A man's house should be on the hill-top of cheerfulness and serenity, 
that no shadows rest upon it, and where the morning comes so early, and 
the evening tarries so late, that the day has twice as many golden 
hours as those of other men. . He is to be pitied who is in some valley of 
grief between the hills, with the longest night and the shortest day. 
Home should be the centre of joy, equatorial and tropical. — Beecher. 



90 THE HOME LIFE, 



To Adam, Paradise was home. To the good among his descendants, 
home is Paradise. 

Home of our childhood ! how affection clings 
And hovers round thee with her seraph wings ! 
Dearer thy hills, though clad in autumn brown, 
Than fairest summits which the cedars crown. 

—O. W. Holmes. 

Whenever we step out of domestic life in search of felicity, we come 
back again, disappointed, tired and chagrined. One day passed under our 
own roof, with our friends and our family, is worth a thousand in another 
place. 

O happy home ! O bright and cheerful hearth ! 

Look round with me, my lover, friend, and wife, 

On these fair faces we have lit with life, 
And in the perfect blessing of their birth, 
Help me to live our thanks for so much heaven on earth. 

—M. F. Tupper. 

Always leave home with loving words, for they may be the last. 

A great many homes are like the frame of a harp that stands without 
strings. In form and outline they suggest music, but no melody rises from 
the empty spaces, and thus it happens that home is unattractive, dreary 
and dull. 



A HOME WITHOUT LOVE. 

THERE are homes where poverty has never left its pinch, nor sickness 
paid its visit ; homes where there is plenty on the board, and health 
in the circle, and yet where a skeleton more grim than death haunts the 
cupboard, and an ache sharper than consumption's tooth gnaws sharply at 
the heart. Why do those shoulder's stoop so early ere life's noon has 
passed ? Why is it that the sigh which follows the closing of the door after 
the husband has gone off to business is a sigh of relief, and that which 
greets his coming footstep is a sigh of dread ? What means that nervous 
pressing of the hand against the heart, the gulping back of the lump that 
rises in the throat, the forced smile, and the pressed back tear ? If we could 
speak to the husbands who haunt these homes, we would tell them that 
some such soliloquy as the following is ever passing like a labored breath 
through the distracted minds of their wives : " Is this the Canaan, this the 
land of promise, this the milk and honey that were pictured to my fancy 



THE HOME LIFE. 91 

when the walks among the lanes and fields and flowers were all too short, 
and the whispers were so loving, and the pressure was so fond, and the 
heart-beat was so passionate ? For what have I surrendered home, youth, 
beauty, freedom, love — all that a woman has to give in all her wealth of 
confidence? Harsh tones, cold looks, stern words, short answers, sullen 
reserve. What more is needed to make home dark, to poison hope, to turn 
life into a funeral, the marriage robe into a shroud, and the grave into a 
refuge? It does not want drunkeness, blows, bruises, clenched fists, oaths, 
to work sacrilege in the temple of the home ; only a little ice where the 
fire should glow ; only a cold look where the love should burn ; only a 
sneer where there should be a smile ; only neglect where there should be 
affectionate care." Husband ! that wife of yours is wretched because you are 
a liar; because you perjured yourself when you vowed to love and cherish. 
You are too great a coward to beat her brains out, lest the gallows claim 
you ; but you are so little a man that you poison her soul with the slow 
cruelty of an oath daily forsworn and brutally ignored. — How to be Happy 
tlwugh Married. 

IF WE COULD KNOW. 

IF we could know 
Which of us, darling, would be first to go ; 
Which would be first to breast the swelling tide, 
And step alone upon the other side — 
If we could know ! 

If it were you, 

Should I walk softly, keeping death in view ? 
Should I my love to you more oft express ? 
Or should I grieve you, darling, any less — 

If it were you ? 

If it were I, 

Should I improve the moments slipping by ? 
Should I more closely follow God's great plan ? 
Be filled with sweeter charity to man — 

If it were I ? 

If I could know ! 

We cannot, darling, and 'tis better so. 
I should forget, just as I do to-day, 
And walk along the same old stumbling way — 

If I could know. 



92 THE HOME LIFE. 



I would not know 

Which of us, darling, will be first to go. 
I only wish the space may not be long 
Between the parting and the greeting song; 

But when, or where, or how we're called to go— 

I would not know. 



COMFORT ONE ANOTHER. 

COMFORT one another : 
For the way is growing dreary, 
The feet are often weary, 
And the heart is often sad. 

There is heavy burden-bearing, 
When it seems that none are caring, 
And we half forget that even we are glad. 

Comfort one another: 

With the hand-clasp close and tender, 

With the sweetness love can render, 
And looks of friendly eyes. 

Do not wait with grace unspoken, 

While life's daily bread is broken ; 
Gentle speech is oft like manna from the skies. 

Comfort one another : 

By the hope of Him who sought us 

In our peril — Him who bought us, 
Paying with His precious blood; 

By the faith that will not alter, 

Trusting strength that will not falter, 
Leaning on the One divinely good 

Comfort one another: 

Let the grave's gloom lie beyond you, 

While the Spirit's words remind you 
Of the home beyond the tomb ; 

Where no more is pain or parting, 

Fever's flush to tear-drop starting, 
But the presence of the Lord, and for all his people room. 



THE HOME LIFE. 93 



CHASTE LANGUAGE AT HOME. 

LANGUAGE is the vehicle of thought; thought is the spontaneous 
expression of the condition of the mind ; on the condition of the mind 
largely depends our happiness or misery. In view of these facts, and the 
incalculable influence which language, whether written or spoken, exerts 
upon others, how essential that it should be pure and refined. There is no 
place more adapted to this refining process than the home circle ; for the 
refinement of the family becomes the refinement of society. 

The vulgarities of language should have no place in the household. 
All lingual improprieties should be rigidly excluded. By-words, slang 
phrases, allusions from topical songs, and the like, are vulgarities that pain 
and offend. They are filthy vermin creeping among the clean garments of 
our thoughts. They belong to the street, the concert saloon, and the 
brothel, and no respectable apology can be offered for their use. They mar 
language; they do not contribute to its clearness or its vigor; they are not 
the "fitly spoken words," which "are like apples of gold in pictures of 
silver." 

By constant watchfulness, not only grammatical expression can be 
obtained, but also chasteness of expression, and the entire family can 
contribute to that end. We array our bodies with care and taste. Why 
should we not devote the same attention to the attire of our thoughts ? 

The elegancies of language can be acquired by the reading of proper 
books, but they can be more readily acquired by example and companion- 
ship. Parents who use chaste language will insensibly teach their children 
to use it. Some one has said that "the Christian, when alone, has his 
thoughts to watch ; in the family, his temper ; in company, his tongue." 
In doing so, he will illustrate his morning devotions by his actions through 
the day. It is sad to say that, in many Christian homes, purity of language 
is not prized as it ought to be. The father uses slang, the "irrepressible'' 
brother imports it from school, and the little' child is laughed at for his 
"cute" repetition of what he hears, and is called precocious, but it is not 
the kind of precociousness that attains commendable distinction. — Christian 
at Work. 



OUR OWN. 
F I had known in the morning 
How wearily all the day 
The words unkind 
Would trouble my mind 
I said when you went away, 



94 THE HOME LIFE. 

I had been more careful, darling, 
Nor given you needless pain, 

But we vex "our own" 

With look and tone 
We may never take back again. 

For though in the quiet evening 
You may give me the kiss of peace, 
Yet it might be 
That never for me 
The pain of the heart should cease. 
How many go forth in the morning, 
That never come home at night ! 
And hearts have broken 
. For harsh words spoken, 
That sorrow can ne'er set right. 

We have careful thoughts for the stranger, 
And smiles for the transient guest, 

But oft for " our own " 

The bitter tone, 
Though we love " our own " the best. 
Ah, lips with the curve impatient ! 
Ah, brow with that look of scorn ! 

'Twere a cruel fate, 

Were the night too late 
To undo the work of the morn. 



CHEERFUL HOMES. 

MAKE your home the brightest place on earth, if you would charm 
your children to the high path of virtue, and rectitude, and religion. 
Do not always turn the blinds the wrong way. Let the light which puts 
gold on the gentian and spots the pansy pour into your dwellings. Do not 
expect the little feet to keep step to a dead march. Do not cover up your 
walls with such pictures as West's " Death on a Pale Horse," or Tintoretto's 
" Massacre of the Innocents." Rather cover them, if you have pictures, 
with " The Hawking Party," and " The Mill by the Mountain Stream," and 
"The Fox Hunt," and "The Children Amid Flowers," and "The Harvest 
Scene," and "The Saturday Night Marketing." 



THE HOME LIFE. 95 

Get you no hint of cheerfulness from grasshopper's leap, and lamb's 
frisk, and quail's whistle, and garrulous streamlet, which from the rock at 
the mountain top, clear down to the meadow ferns under the shadow of the 
steep, comes looking for the steepest place to leap off at, and talking just 
to hear itself talk? If all the skies hurtled with tempest, and everlasting 
storm wandered over the sea, and every mountain stream went raving mad, 
frothing at the mouth with mud foam, and there was nothing but simoons 
blowing among the hills, and there were neither lark's carol nor humming- 
bird's trill, nor waterfall's dash, but only a bear's bark, and panther's 
jcream, and wolf's howl, then you might well gather into your homes only 
the shadows. But when God has strewn the earth and the heavens with 
beauty and with gladness, let us take into our home-circles all innocent 
hilarity, all brightness, and all good cheer. A dark home makes bad boys 
and bad girls in preparation for bad men and bad women. — Talmage. 



M 



MUSIC. 

USIC! Oh, how faint, how weak, 

Language fails before thy spell ! 
Why should feeling ever speak, 

When thou canst breathe her soul so well ? 
Friendship's balmy words may feign — 

Love's are e'en more false than they : 
Oh ! 'tis only music's strain 

Can sweetly soothe, and not betray. — Moore. 



SINGING AT HOME. 

*< QING me the songs that to me were so dear, 
O Long, long ago; long, long ago." 

These songs of long ago sing themselves down through the years; 
carrying us back to the old home that has almost faded away in the distance ; 
unfolding out of the shadows of life the happy scenes of our childhood 
days, and bringing to us on the wings of song the loving voices of those 
dear ones — voices long ago silent in the grave. And as we listen, we seem 
to hear those voices, 

" Blending in diviner songs 

Than those of 'auld lang syne.' 
Immortal songs of praise, unknown 
In days of 'auld lang syne.' " 



96 THE HOME LIFE. 



Think of the voices of earth lifted up and set in the white-robed choir! 
Oh, then let music come into every home ! Fill your house full of song. 

Nourish it and cherish it as one of Heaven's best gifts, one of the 
loveliest remembrances of the home of praise. 

Do you desire to drive away all the evil spirits of anger and jealousy 
and ill-feeling and selfishness that gather around every hearthstone ? Then 
let the children be taught the angels' art. Let them be encouraged to 
mingle their voices in songs so pure that they seem like remnants of 
melodies left by the seraphic choir that chanted on Bethlehem's plains 
" Glory to God in the Highest, and on earth peace, good will to men," when 
the Holy Child was born ; when Heaven touched earth ; when the glowing 
star stooped from the sky to kiss the Babe in the manger. 

Many people say " O, my children have no musical talent. It won't 
pay to give them instruction." There is a remuneration greater than money 
or fame. The joy and pleasure of music at home cannot be valued in 
dollars and cents. Your sons and daughters may never achieve renown as 
great musical artists, nor receive the applause of entranced audiences; but 
they may bring peace and rest to the home gathering. And when they go 
out into the world, to build homes for themselves, or to meet with the 
temptations that are before them, there will be this bond of song to bind 
them to the old home, and then will gather around them the strongest, 
holiest influences of Hie.— Joseph T. Wright. 



'M 



HOME, SWEET HOME. 

ID pleasures and palaces though we may roam, 
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home ! 
A charm from the skies seems to hallow us there, 
Which, seek thro' the world, is ne'er met with elsewhere. 
Home ! home ! sweet, sweet home ! 
There's no place like home ; there's no place like home ! 

An exile from home splendor dazzles in vain, 

Oh ! give me my lowly, thatch'd cottage again ! 

The birds singing gayly, that come at my call, 

Give me them, — and the peace of mind, dearer than all. 

Home ! home ! sweet, sweet home ! 

There's no place like home ; there's no place like home ! 



THE HOME LIFE. 97 

How sweet 'tis to sit 'neatli a fond father's smile, 
And the cares of a mother to soothe and beguile ; 
Let others delight 'mid new pleasures to roam, 
But give me, oh ! give me, the pleasures of home. 
Home ! home ! sweet, sweet home ! 
But give me, oh ! give me, the pleasures of home ! 

To thee I'll return, overburdened with care, 
The heart's dearest solace will smile on me there ; 
No more from that cottage again will I roam, 
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home. 
Home ! home ! sweet, sweet home ! 

There's no place like home ; there's no place like home. 

—J. H. Payne. 



HOME SONGS. 



O 



H, sing once more those joy-provoking strains, 

Which, half forgotten, in my memory dwell ! 
They send the life-blood bounding through my veins, 

And circle round me like an airy spell. 
The songs of home are to the human heart 

Far dearer than the notes that song-birds pour, 
And of our inner nature seem a part. 

Then sing those dear familiar lays once more — 
Those cheerful lays of other days — 

Oh, sing those cheerful lays once more. 



THE DEAREST SPOT OF EARTH IS HOME. 

THE dearest spot of earth to me 
Is home, sweet home ! 
The fairy-land I long to see 
Is home, sweet home ! 

There, how charmed the sense of hearing! 
There, where love is so endearing! 
All the world is not so cheering 
As home, sweet home ! 



98 THE HOME LIFE. 

The dearest spot of earth to me 
Is home, sweet home ! 

The fairy-land I long to see 
Is home, sweet home ! 

I've taught my heart the way to prize 
My home, sweet home ! 

I've learned to look with lover's eyes 
On home, sweet home ! 

There, where vows are truly plighted ! 
There, where hearts are so united ! 
All the world besides I've slighted 
For home, sweet home ! 

The dearest spot of earth to me 
Is home, sweet home ! 

The fairy-land I long to see 
Is home, sweet home ! 



W. T. WHghion. 



HOME. 



T 



IS whispered in the ear of God, 

Tis murmured through our tears, 
Tis linked with happy childhood days, , 

And blessed in riper years. 

That hallowed word is ne'er forgot, 

No matter where we roam ; 
The purest feelings of the heart, 
. Still cluster round our home. 

Dear resting-place, where weary thought 

May dream away its care; 
Love's gentle star unveils her light, 

And shines in beauty there. 

— Fanny Crosby. 



THE HOME LIFE. 90 



H 



HOME DEFINED. 

OME'S not merely four square walls, 

Though with pictures hung and gilded ; 
Home is where affection calls, 

Filled with shrines the hearth hath builded ! 
Home ! Go watch the faithful dove, 

Sailing 'neath the heaven above us ; 
Home is where there's one to love ! 

Home is where there's one to love us ! 

Home's not merely roof and room ; 

It needs something to endear it ; 
Home is where the heart can bloom, 

Where there's some kind lip to cheer it ! 
What is home with none to meet, 

None to welcome, none to greet us ? 
Home is sweet, — and only sweet — 

When there's one we love to meet us ! 



-Charles Swain. 



HOME. 



'N all my wanderings round this world of care, 
In all my griefs — and God has given my share — 
I still had hopes my latest hours to crown, 
Amidst these humble bowers to lay me down ; 
To husband out life's taper at the close, 
And keep the flame from wasting, by repose. 
I still had hopes, for pride attends us still, 
Amidst the swains to show my book-learn'd skill ; 
Around my fire an evening group to draw, 
And tell of all I felt and all I saw ; 
And as a hare, whom hounds and horns pursue, 
Pants to the place from whence at first she flew ; 
I s r .ill had hopes, my long vexations past, 
Here to return — and die at home at last. 

— Oliver Goldsmith 



THE HOME LIFE. 



TWO PICTURES. 

N old farm-house with meadows wide, 
i And sweet with clover on each side ; 
A bright-eyed boy, who looks from out 
The door with woodbine wreathed about, 
And wishes his one thought all day : 
" O, if I could but fly away 

From this dull spot, the world to see, 

How happy, happy, happy, 
How happy I should be ! " 

Amid the city's constant din, 
A man who round the world has been, 
Who, 'mid the tumult and the throng, 
Is thinking, thinking all day long : 
"O, could I only tread once more 
The field-path to the farm-house door, 
The old, green meadow could I see, 

How happy, happy, happy, 
How happy I should be ! " 

— Marian Douglas. 



RELIGION AT HOME. 

A HOUSE may be full of persons who are very dear to each c ther, very 
kind to each other; full of precious things — affections, hopes, living 
interests ; but, if God is not there as the Ruler and Father of the home, the 
true ideal of the home will not be realized ; vacancy and need will still be 
at the heart of all. Good things will grow feebly and slowly, like flowers 
in winter, trying to peep out into the sunshine, with hardly strength 
enough to live, and powerless to resist the blast. Evil things will grow 
with strange persistency, notwithstanding protests of the affections and 
efforts of the will. Mysterious gulfs will open at times where it was 
thought strong foundations had been laid. Little things will produce 
great distress. Great things, when attained, will shrink into littleness. 
Flickerings of uncertainty and fear will run along the days. Joys will not 
satisfy. Sorrow will not surprise. 

In the very heart of the godless home there will be a sickness arising 
from need unsatisfied and hope deferred. 



THE HOME LIFE. 






Home without the Divine presence is at best a moral structure with- 
out any sure foundation — a "house built upon the sand." It is a haunted 
house — haunted with the ghosts of unrealized happiness and peace. It will 
be at best but " the shadow of some good thing to come," but only a 
" shadow," that gradually fades away as the years go on, never bringing the 
substance. 

In many houses there is going on what may be called a dialogue of 
souls — unspoken questions, the sighs of the spirit : " How is it that we 
cannot be as happy as we ought to be ? Why is there such a sorrow even 
in our affection, such a trembling in our joys, such fears and incompleteness 
in all we do ?" 

Ah ! What is the answer to such mute but eager questionings ? Who 
can speak the answer ? The One who alone hears the spirit in its cries for 
what Earth cannot give. He tells of another Fatherhood, under which 
parents must become as little children ; of another Brotherhood which 
makes the home circle of earth a picture, a foretaste of the home which our 
Elder Brother has prepared for those who are His. 

When the members of a godless home will look away from 
themselves, look above to " Our Father, which art in Heaven," to our 
" Elder Brother and Advocate with the Father," then shall come, sweet 
as music, into the very heart of that home, these words from the Ever- 
lasting Father: 

"Ye shall be my sons and daughters;" from the Eternal Son, 
" Behold, my mother, and sister, and brother ! " Then the home rests upon a 
foundation from which it cannot be shaken, for "it is founded upon a rock" 
— the Rock of Ages. It is a haunted house no more, the ghosts have been 
driven away. Mornings are welcome. Nights are restful. The aching 
sorrow has passed away now from the heart of that home. The long- 
sought secret is revealed. Soul whispers to soul, "Emmanuel, God with 
us." Home is home at last. 



HOME, THE SWEETEST TYPE OF HEAVEN. 

THE sweetest type of heaven is home. Home, in one form and another, 
is the great object of life. It stands at the end of every day's labor, 
and beckons us to its bosom ; and life would be cheerless and meaningless 
did we not discern across the river that divides it from the life beyond, 
glimpses of the pleasant mansions prepared for us. 

Heaven ! that land of quiet rest — toward which those, who, worn 
down and tired with the toils of earth, direct their frail barks over the 
troubled waters of life, and after a long and dangerous passage, find it — safe 



THE HOME LIFE. 



in the haven of eternal bliss. Heaven is the home that awaits us beyond 
the grave. There the friendships formed on earth, and which cruel death 
has severed, are never more to be broken ; and parted friends shall meet 
again, never more to be separated. 

It is an inspiring hope that, when we separate here on earth at the 
summons of Death's angel, and when a few more years have rolled over the 
heads of those remaining, if " faithful unto death," we shall meet again in 
heaven, our eternal home, there to dwell in the presence of our Heavenly 
Father, and go no more out forever. 

At the best estate, my friends, we are only pilgrims and strangers. 
Heaven is to be our eternal home. Death will never knock at the door of that 
mansion, and in all that land there will not be a single grave. Aged 
parents rejoice very much when, on Christmas Day or Thanksgiving Day, 
they have their children at home , but there is almost always a son or a 
daughter absent — absent from the country, perhaps absent from the world. 
But oh, how our Heavenly Father will rejoice in the long thanksgiving day 
of heaven, when He has all His children with Him in glory ! How glad 
brothers and sisters will be to meet after so long a separation ! Perhaps a 
score of years ago they parted at the door of the tomb. Now they meet 
again at the door of immortality. Once they looked through a glass darkly. 
Now, face to face, corruption, incorruption — mortality, immortality. Where 
are now all their sorrows and temptations and trials? Overwhelmed in the 
Red Sea of death, while they, dry-shod, marched into glory. Gates of 
jasper, cope-stone of amethyst, thrones of dominion do not so much affect my 
soul as the thought of home. Once there, let earthly sorrows howl like 
storms and roll like seas. Home! Let thrones rot and empires wither- 
Home! Let the world die in earthquake struggles and be buried amid 
processipn of planets and dirge of spheres. Home ! Let everlasting ages 
roll in irresistible sweep. Home! No sorrow, no crying, no tears, no. 
death ; but home ! Sweet home ! Beautiful home ! Glorious home ! 
Everlasting home ! Home with each other ! Home with angels ! Home 
with God ! Home, home ! Through the rich grace of Christ Jesus, may 
we all reach it. 




fh 




s M-M^oTaL y^im 




THE MORAL LIFE. 



N 



GOD'S BEVERAGE. 

OT in the haunts of the wicked, 

Not in the dens of the craven, 
Not in the hot-house of Satan 

Is God's best beverage given; 
Not in the vale of corruption — 

Not in the poisonous gases 
Out from the simmering still, to 

Laugh in the wine-bibber's glasses. 

Not in the brewery, seething — 

Not in its sickening fumes, 
Brewed for the craven death-angel 

Keeping the gates of the tombs; 
Not in the stifling odors 

Out from the stench of the mill 
Where Satan is superintendent, 

Grinding destruction at will. 

But down in the beautiful valley, 

The vale that we cherish so well, 
Where the red deer playfully wanders 

With its mate in the shadowy dell ; 
Way down in the rock-bound ravine, 

Where pebbles are carelessly strewed, 
Where fountains are all the day singing, 

Is Heaven's best beverage brewed. 



5o6 THE MORAL LIFE. 

High up on the crest of the mountains, 

Where granite rocks glitter like gold, 
Where the storm-clouds gather relentless, 

And the crash of the thunder is told ; 
And out on the turbulent waters, 

Where the hurricane howls o'er the sea, 
Is brewed there the best of all beverage — 

The best for you, reader, and me. 

'Tis brewed in the cataract sporting, 

As it leaps from its perilous height ; 
'Tis seen in the gauze around Luna, 

As she lights up the heavens at night; 
'Tis seen in the glittering ice-gem, 

When its brilliance, like jewels, doth seem, 
And, too, in the hail-shower dancing; 

Cloud-hid from the morning sun's beam. 

'Tis seen in the rain-drops descending, 

As they weave the bright bow in the air, 
Whose woof is the sunbeams of Heaven, 

Each painting their bright colors there; 
It dances along 'neath the curtains 

All dark in the silence of night, 
And kisses the vines of the bowers, 

As a blessed life-water of light. 

On its brink are no poisonous bubbles, 

Its foam brings no murder or madness, 
No blood stains its crystallized glasses; 

No heart bends before it in sadness, 
No widows or orphans are weeping 

With tears of dark misery's gall ; 
Then, tell me, dear reader, why change it 

For the Demon's Drink — King Alcohol? 

— /, S. Watkins. 



For he that holds more wine than others can 
I rather count a hogshead than a man. 

— Thomas Randolph. 



THE MORAL LIFE. 107 



THE STRONGEST DRINK. 

WATER is the strongest drink. It drives mills ; it is the drink of lions 
and horses ; and Samson never drank anything else. Let young 
men be teetotalers if only for economy's sake. 

The beer money will soon build a house. If what goes into the 
mash-tub went into the kneading-trough, families would be better fed and 
better taught. If what is spent in waste were only saved against a rainy 
day, poor-houses would never be built. The man who spends his money 
with the publican, and thinks the landlord's bow and " How do ye do, my 
good fellow?" mean true respect, is a perfect simpleton. We don't light 
fires for the herring's comfort, but to roast him. Men do not keep pot- 
houses for laborers' good; if they do, they certainly miss their aim. Why, 
then, should people drink "for the good of the house?" If I spend money 
for the good of the house, let it be my own house and not the landlord's. 
It is a bad well into which you must put water ; and the beer-house is a bad 
friend, because it takes your all and leaves you nothing but headaches. He 
who calls those his friends, who let him sit and drink by the hour together, 
is ignorant — very ignorant. Why, red lions, and tigers, and eagles, and 
vultures are all creatures of prey ; and why do so many put themselves 
within the power of their jaws and talons ? Such as drink and live 
riotously, and wonder why their faces are so blotchy and their pockets so 
bare, would leave off wondering if they had two grains of wisdom. They 
might as well ask an elm tree for pears as look to loose habits for health 
and wealth. Those who go to the public-house for happiness, climb a tree 
to find fish. — Spurgeon. 



APOSTROPHE ON WATER. 

POURING a glass of water and advancing toward his audience, and 
lifting it above his head, he said : 
"Look at that, ye thirsty sons of earth! Behold it! See its purity! 
How it glitters as if a mass of liquid gems ! It is a beverage that was 
brewed by the Almighty himself ! Not in simmering still or smoking fires, 
choked with poisonous gases, and surrounded by the stench of sickening 
odors and rank corruption, does our Father in Heaven prepare the precious 
essence of life, the pure cold water, but in the green glade, and grassy dell, 
where the deer wanders and the child loves to play, there God brews it; 
and down in the deepest valley, where the fountains murmur and the rills 
sing, and high upon the tall mountain tops, where the storm-clouds brood 
and the thunders crash, and away far out on the wide sea, where the 



io8 THE MORAL LIFE. 

hurricane howls music and the big waves roll the chorus, sweeping 1 the 
march of God, there he brews it — that beverage of health-giving water — and 
everywhere it is a thing of beauty, glimmering in the summer rain, shining 
in the ice-gem, till the trees all seemed turned into living jewels, spreading 
a golden veil over the setting sun, or a white gauze around the midnight 
moon, sporting in the cataract, sleeping in the glaciers, dancing in the hail- 
showers, folding its soft curtain softly about the windy world and weaving 
the many-colored iris, that is, Orpha's Zone of the sky, whose warp is the 
rain-drop of the earth, whose roof is the sunbeam of Heaven, are checkered 
over with celestial flowers by the mystic hand of reflection, still always it 
is beautiful, that blessed life water. No poison bubbles on the brink; its 
foam brings no sadness or murder. "■ — Gough. 



THE DESTROYER. 

INTEMPERANCE creates in man an ungovernable appetite. Men who 
have fallen have told us it is not a desire, not an appetite, not a passion; 
these ordinary words fail to express the thing. It is more like a raging 
storm that pervades the entire being ; it is a madness that paralyzes the 
brain, it is a corrosion that gnaws the stomach, it is a storm-fire that 
courses through the veins ; it transgresses every boundary, it fiercely casts 
aside every barrier, it regards no motive, it silences reason, it stifles 
conscience, it tramples upon prudence, it overleaps everything that you 
choose to put in its way, and eternal life and the claims of God are as 
feathers, which it blows out of its path. 

What does it do to man's body? It diseases it; it crazes his brain, it 
blasts his nerves, it consumes his liver, it destroys his stomach, it inflames 
his heart, it sends a fiery flood of conflagration through all the tissues ; it 
so saps the recuperative energies of man's body that oftentimes a little 
scratch upon a drunkard's skin is a greater injury than a bayonet-thrust 
through and through the body of a temperate man. It not only does this, 
but the ruin that it brings into the nervous system often culminates in 
delirium tremens. Have you ever seen a man under its influence? Have 
you heard him mutter, and jabber, and leer, and rave like an idiot? Have 
you heard him moan, cry, shriek, curse, and rave, as he tried to skulk under 
the bedclothes? Have you looked into his eyes, and seen the horrors of the 
damned there? Have you witnessed these things? Have you seen the 
scowl on his face, so that the whole atmosphere was filled with tempest ? 
Have you seen him heave on his bed, as though his body was undulating 
upon the rolling waves like a fire ? If. you have, then you know what it 
does to the body. 



THE MORAL LIFE. 109 

It enthralls the will. A man's will ought to be king. The will of 
the drunkard is an abject slave. The noblest and the mightiest men have 
been unable to break off the chain when it is once riveted. I verily believe 
there have been no such wails of despair out of hell itself as have gone up 
from the lips and heart of the drunkard who knew he never could be 
recovered. 

What does it do to the heart ? If a man is made in the image of 
God's intellect, a woman is made in the image of God's heart. A tender 
woman is tenderest to her child. Is there anything that can unmother a 
woman, that can pluck the maternal heart out of her, and put in its place 
something that is powerful and fiendish? Is there any other agent on 
earth, or even in the world of the damned, that can so transform a mother's 
heart into something for which thought itself cannot find similitude? 
Satan himself cannot do it ; but rum can. 

It wrecks character. It is a double shipwreck; the drunkard not only 
loses his own respect, but he loses the respect of everybody else. His own 
character, with its real worthiness and with its reputation, is gone, and his 
worthiness in the estimation of other people is gone, too — both of them, 
slain, are buried in one grave ; and the grave-digger and the murderer, 
who are they? Rum. It wipes out the likeness of God from the soul, and 
makes a man a mixture of the brute and the demon, evolving the stupidity 
of the one and the philosophy of the other ; and the Bible tells us that no 
drunkard shall ever inherit the kingdom of God. — H. M. Scudder. 



THE CAUSE OF TEMPERANCE. 

OUR enterprise is in advance of the public sentiment, and those who 
carry it on are glorious iconoclasts, who are going to break down the 
drunken Dagon worshipped by their fathers. Count me over the chosen 
heroes of this earth, and I will show you men that stood alone — aye, alone 
while those they toiled, and labored, and agonized for, hurled at them 
contumely, scorn and contempt. They stood alone ; they looked into the 
future calmly and with faith ; they saw the golden beam inclining to the 
side of perfect justice ; and they fought on amidst the storm of persecution. 
In Great Britain they tell me when I go to see such a prison : " There is 
such a dungeon in which such a one was confined ;" "Here among the ruins 
of an old castle we will show you where such a one had his ears cut off, 
and where another was murdered." Then they will show me monuments 
towering up to the heavens : " There is a monument to such a one ; there 
is a monument to another." And what do I find ? That the one generation 



THE MORAL LIFE. 



persecuted and howled at these men, crying " Crucify them ! crucify them !" 
and dancing around the blazing fagots that consumed them ; and the next 
generation busied itself in gathering up the scattered ashes of the martyred 
heroes and depositing them in the golden urn of a nation's history. Oh, 
yes ! the men that fight for a great enterprise are the men that bear the 
brunt of the battle, and " He who seeth in secret " — seeth the desire of his 
children, their steady purpose, their firm self-denial — "will reward them 
openly," though they may die and see no sign of the triumphs of their 
enterprise. 

A PROGRESSIVE CAUSE. 

Our cause is a progressive one. I have read the first constitution of 
the first temperance society formed in the State of New York in 1809, and 
one of the by-laws stated, " Any member of this association who shall be 
convicted of intoxication shall be fined a quarter of a dollar, except such act 
of intoxication shall take place on the Fourth of July, or any other 
regularly appointed military muster." We laugh at that now ; but it was a 
serious matter in those days ; it was in advance of the public sentiment of 
the age. The very men who adopted that principle were persecuted ; they 
were hooted and pelted through the streets, the doors of their houses were 
blackened, their cattle mutilated. 

The fire of persecution scorched some men so that they left the work. 
Others worked on, and God blessed them. Some are living to-day ; and I 
should like to stand where they stand now, and see the mighty enterprise 
as it rises before them. They worked hard. They lifted the first turf — 
prepared the bed in which to lay the corner-stone. They laid it amid 
persecution and storm. They worked under the surface ; and men almost 
forgot that there were busy hands laying the solid foundation far down 
beneath. 

"LOVE, TRUTH, SYMPATHY, AND GOOD- WILL TO MEN." 

By-and-by they got the foundation above the surface, and then began 
another storm of persecution. Now we see the superstructure — pillar after 
pillar, tower after tower, column after column, with the capitals emblazoned 
with " Love, truth, sympathy, and good-will to men." Old men gaze upon 
it as it grows up before them. They will not live to see it completed ; but 
they see in faith the crowning cope-stone set upon it. Meek-eyed women 
weep as it grows in beauty ; children strew the pathway of the workmen 
with flowers. 

We do not see its -beauty yet — we do not see the magnificence of its 
superstructure yet — because it is in course of erection. Scaffolding, ropes, 
ladders, workmen ascending and descending, mar the beauty of the 



THE MORAL LIFE. 



building ; but by-and-by, when the hosts who have labored shall come up 
over a thousand battle-fields waving with bright grain never again to be 
crushed in the distillery — through vineyards, under trellised vines, with 
grapes hanging in all their purple glory, never again to be pressed into that 
which can debase and degrade mankind — when they shall come through 
orchards, under trees hanging thick with golden, pulpy fruit, never to be 
turned into that which can injure and debase — when they shall come up to 
the last distillery and destroy it ; to the last stream of liquid death and dry 
it up ; to the last weeping wife and wipe her tears gently away ; to the last 
child and lift him up to stand where God meant that child and man should 
stand ; to the last drunkard and nerve him to burst the burning fetters and 
make a glorious accompaniment to the song of freedom by the clanking of 
his broken chains — then, ah ! then will the cope-stone be set upon it, the 
scaffolding will fall with a crash, and the building will stand in its 
wondrous beauty before an astonished world. Loud shouts of rejoicing 
shall then be heard, and there will be joy in Heaven when the triumphs of 
a great enterprise usher in the day of the triumphs of the cross of Christ. 
— Gough. 



B 



SHUN THE BOWL. 

Y thy dread of sin and sorrow, 

By thy fear of shame and strife, 
By each dark, despairing morrow, 

Lengthening still a wretched life ; 
By the chains that, worse than iron, 

Burn the brain, and sear the soul, 
By the torments it environ, 

Dearest children, shun the bowl ! 

By the hope thou wouldst not wither, 

By the love that round thee clings, 
Never turn thy footsteps whither 

Wild the maniac drunkard sings ! 
Enter not the poisoned vapor, 

Where oaths and fumes together roll, 
Kneel and pray by lonely taper, 

Pray for strength to shun the bowl. 

By bleared eye, and voice whose quaking 
Fills the agony within, 



THE MORAL LIFE. 



By the palsied hand, which shaking 

Ever lifts the draft of sin, 
By the torment still increasing, 

Gnawing brain, and harrowing soul, 
Thirst unsated and unceasing, 

Dearest children, shun the bowl ! 

By each holy kiss, thy mother 

On thy infant forehead pressed, 
Love of father, sister, brother, 

All that purifies thy breast ; 
By the hope of Heaven within thee, 

Oh ! debase not mind and soul — 
Let not sin's own chalice win thee ; — 

Dearest children, shun the bowl. 

— Eliza H. Barker. 

^ IS there any harm in a glass of wine?" Listen! A number of years 
I ago a young man went to Saint Louis. He was entertained at the 
palatial residence of one of the Railroad Kings of the West. The beautiful 
and accomplished daughter of his host offered him a glass of rich, sparkling 
wine. He tried to refuse, for he remembered his dying mother's words : 
" Son, promise me that you will never drink any wine." He faltered out, 
" No, I thank you," almost yielding to the charms of the fair cup-bearer, 
when the old, proud father said : "Nonsense, young man, there's no harm in 
a glass of wine," and he drank the wine, and to-day he is a drunkard. I have 
it from his own lips that, ten years after that fatal night when the poison 
entered his heart, he was again in Saint Louis. Early one morning he 
went to a saloon to get that which alone would relieve, while it added to, 
his burning thirst. As he stood at the bar, an old, ragged, dirty, besotted 
wretch came in, begging for a drink, imploring the barkeeper for God's sake 
to give him only a little to minister to his relief, and that drunken beggar 
was, ten years ago, the Railroad King who said, " There's no harm in a glass 
of wine." — Joseph T. Wright. 



HOW STRONG DRINK INJURES LABOR. 

STRONG drink injures labor by diminishing the demand for useful 
products ; for when there is no demand for an article, labor is not 
needed to manufacture it. It is equally true that the wages are regulated 
by the demand for labor. When the number of laborers exceeds the 



THE MORAL LIFE. 113 



demand for their labor, wages will be low ; but when they are less than the 

P number needed, wages will be high. The way to mend hard times is to 
create a demand for useful articles, that will give the most labor, and 
extend an influence to the promotion of other productive industries. This 
we can do, if we spend for food, clothing, furniture, and other necessaries, 
the millions that are now worse than wasted for drink. This would not 
only give work to all our unemployed and those engaged in the liquor 
business, but labor would be greatly in demand in all the productive 
industries of the State. 

THE PORTION LABOR RECEIVES. 

The cost of labor to manufacture crude whiskey, is about three and 

fa-half per cent, on the value of the liquor at the place of manufacture- 
while for labor in the aggregate productions of the State, there is paid 
17*97 per cent, of their value at the place of production; for boots and 
shoes, 28^ per cent.; for clothing, 21-57 P er cent.; for furniture and house 
fixtures, etc., 29-55 per cent.^ for hardware, 26-24 P er cent. ; for cotton goods, 
19-98 per cent. ; for woollen goods, 15-86 per cent., and for worsted goods, 
17-30 per cent. It will be a fair estimate to allow an average of 25 per cent, 
increase on the price of the products of industry, after leaving the 
manufactory until received by the consumers. 

What proportion does labor receive of the price paid by the 
consumers? By buying $100 worth of the aggregate manufactures of our 
State, $14.38 goes to labor in their production. For every $100 spent for 
boots and shoes, $22.85 g° es f° r labor; for clothing, $17.25 ; for furniture, 
house fixtures, etc., $22.76; for hardware, $20.99; for cotton goods, $15.94; 
for woollen goods, $12.98; for worsted goods, $13.83 — while $100 spent for 
liquors, to produce them, will give only $1.94 to labor. If we average a 
day's work to be worth $2, then $100 spent for boots and shoes will give 
more than 1 1 days' work ; for clothing, more than 8 days ; for furniture, 
etc., more than 11 days; for cotton goods, nearly 7^ days; for woollen 
goods, nearly 6y 2 days ; for hardware, about \o l /s days, and for worsted 
goods, nearly 6y 2 days — while $100 spent for liquors will give to labor less 
than a day's work. 

LIQUOR ROBS LABOR. 

It is very evident that the use of strong drink injures labor, and 
consequently our laboring people. The liquor business is ever at war with 
all the interests of labor, and the working classes of our own and every 
other State. It is certainly to the interest of our laboring classes, if they 
wish to improve their condition, to use all their influence, sdcial and 
political, to banish the drink traffic from our State and nation. 



i 4 THE MORAL LIFE. 



Every dollar spent for liquor robs labor of nearly a-balf day's work. 
The man who spends a dollar for drink, receives nothing of value, and 
labor receives less than 2 cents; while of a dollar spent for a pair of 
shoes for a child, 32 cents would go for labor, instead of less than 2 cents, 
as when the dollar is expended for liquor. In one case the child would 
have a pair of shoes, in the other the man would be lucky if he escaped a 
headache, or something worse. 

True labor-reform is the abolition of the drink traffic, which lives 
and fattens on the ruin of every useful and legitimate business. In 
considering the question of capital and labor, the drink question is the 
most important factor ; for all reforms looking towards the amelioration of 
the condition of our working people, will be of little or no avail so long as 
the drink traffic exists to swallow up their wages. For in the future, as it 
has been in the past, the shorter the hours of labor and the higher the 
wages received by a vast number of our laborers, the greater will be the 
harvest of the drink traffic. As long as men spend their wages for drink, 
so long shall we have hard times, scarcity of work, and low wages ; and 
labor will still be the " slave of capital." — Dr. Hargreaves. 



STRIKES. 



STRIKES are quite proper, only strike right; 
Strike to some purpose, but not for a fight ; 
Strike for your manhood, for honor, and fame; 
Strike right and left till you win a good name ; 
Strike for your freedom from all that is vile; 
Strike off companions who often beguile ; 
Strike with the hammer, the sledge, and the axe ; 
Strike off bad habits with burdensome tax ; 
Strike out unaided, depend on no other ; 
Strike without gloves, and your foolishness smother; 
Strike off the fetters of fashion and pride ; 
Strike where 'tis best, but let wisdom decide ; 
Strike a good blow while the iron is hot ; 
Strike, keep striking, till you hit the right spot. 



RUM THE FOE OF LABOR. 



THE most persistent, most overpowering enemy of the working class is 
intoxicating liquor. It is the anarchist of the centuries. It is a 
worse foe than monopoly. It annually swindles industry out of a large 



THE MORAL LIFE. 115 

percentage of its earnings. It holds out its blasting solicitations to the 
mechanic or operative on his way to work, and at the noon-spell, and on his 
way home at eventide, on Saturday, when the wages are paid, it snatches a 
large part of the money that should go to the family, and sacrifices it 
among the saloon-keepers. 

The rum business is pouring its vitriolic and damnable liquids down 
the throats of hundreds of thousands of laborers, and while the ordinary 
strikes are ruinous both to employers and employes, 

I PROCLAIM A STRIKE 

universal against strong drink, which, if kept up, will be the relief of the 
working classes and the salvation of the nation. I will undertake to say 
that there is not a healthy laborer in the United States who, within the 
next ten years, if he will refuse all intoxicating beverage and be saving, 
may not become a capitalist on a small scale. Our country in a year spends 
one billion five hundred million and fifty thousand dollars for rum. Of 
course, the working classes do a great deal of this expenditure. 

When an army goes out to the battle the soldier who has water or 
coffee in his canteen marches easier and fights better than the soldier who 
has whiskey in his canteen. Rum helps a man to fight when he has only 
one contestant, and that at the street corner. But when he goes forth to 
maintain some great battle for God and his country, he wants no rum 
about him. When the Russians go to war a corporal passes along the 
line and smells the breath of every soldier. If there be in his breath a 
taint of intoxicating liquor, the man is sent back to the barracks. Why ? 

ALL OUR YOUNG MEN KNOW THIS. 

He cannot endure fatigue. All our young men know this. When they 
are preparing for a regatta, or for a ball club, or for an athletic wrestling, 
they abstain. Our working people will be wiser after a while, and the 
money they fling away on hurtful indulgences they will put into co-operative 
associations, and so become capitalists. 

My plea is to those working people who are in a discipleship to the 
whiskey-bottle, the beer-mug, and the wine-flask. And what I say to them 
will not be less appropriate to the business classes, and the literary classes, 
and the professional classes, and all classes, and the people of all ages. 
Take one square look at the suffering of the man whom strong drink has 
enthralled and remember that toward that goal multitudes are running. 
The disciple of alcoholism suffers the loss of self-respect. 

Just as soon as a man wakes up and finds that he is the captive of 
strong drink, he feels demeaned. I do not care how reckless he acts. He 



u6 THE MORAL LIFE. 

may say, "I don't care; " he does care. He cannot look a pure man in the 
eye unless it is with positive force of resolution. Three-fourths of his 
nature is destroyed; his self-respect is gone; he says things he would not 
otherwise say; he does things he would not otherwise do. When a man is 
nine-tenths gone with strong drink, the first thing he wants to do is to 
persuade you that he can stop any time he wants to. He can not. The 
Philistines have bound him hand and foot, and shorn his locks, and put out 
his eyes, and are making him grind in the mill of a great horror. He 
can not stop. I will prove it. He knows that his course is bringing ruin 
upon himself. He loves himself. If he could stop he would. He knows 
his course is bringing ruin upon his family. He loves them. He would 
stop if he could. He can not. Perhaps he could three months or a year 
ago, not now. Just ask him to stop for a month. He can not; he knows he 
can not, so he does not try. 

I had a friend who was for 

FIFTEEN YEARS GOING DOWN 

under this evil habit. He had large means. He had given thousands of 
dollars to Bible societies and reformatory institutions of all sorts. He was 
very genial, very generous, and very lovable, and whenever he talked about 
this evil habit he would say, " I can stop any time." But he kept going on, 
going on, down, down, down. His family would say, " I wish you would 
stop." "Why," he would reply, "I can stop any time if I want to." After 
awhile he had delirium tremens; he had it twice; and yet, after that, he 
said, "I could stop at any time if I wanted to." He is dead now. What 
killed him ? Rum ! Rum ! And yet among his last utterances was, " I can 
stop at any time." He did not stop it, because he could not stop it. Oh, 
there is a point in inebriation beyond which if a man goes he can not stop ! 

LOSS OF HEALTH. 

The older men in the congregation may remember that some years 
ago Dr. Sewell went through this country and electrified the people by his 
lectures, in which he showed the effects of alcoholism on the human 
stomach. He had seven or eight diagrams by which he showed the 
devastation of strong drink upon the physical system. There were 
thousands of people that turned back from that ulcerous sketch, swearing 
eternal abstinence from everything that could intoxicate. 

God only knows what the drunkard suffers. Pain files on every nerve, 
and travels every muscle, and gnaws every bone, and burns with every flame, 
and stings with every poison, and pulls at him with every torture. What 
reptiles crawl over his creeping limbs ! What fiends stand by his midnight 



THE MORAL LIFE. 117 

pillow ! What groans tear his ear ! What horrors shiver through his soul ! 
Talk of the rack, talk of the Inquisition, talk of the funeral pyre, talk of the 
crushing Juggernaut — he feels them all at once. Oh, is there anything 
that will so destroy a man for this life and damn him for the life that is to 
come? I hate that strong drink. With all the concentrated energies of my 
soul I hate it. Do not tell me that a man can be happy when he knows 
that he is breaking his wife's heart and clothing his children with rags. 
Why, there are on the roads and streets of this land to-day little children, 
barefooted, unwashed, and unkempt — want on every patch of their faded 
dress and on every wrinkle of their prematurely-old countenances, who 
would have been in churches to-day, and as well clad as you are, but for the 
fact that rum destroyed their parents and drove them into the grave. O 
rum, thou foe of God, thou despoiler of homes, thou recruiting officer of the 
pit, I hate thee ! 

STOP STRONG DRINK. 

But not waiting for those mouths of hell to close, let me advise the 
working and the business classes, and all classes, to stop strong drink. 
While I declared some time ago that there was a point beyond which a 
man could not stop, I want to tell you that while a man cannot stop in his 
own strength, the Lord God by His grace can help him to stop at any time. 
I was in a room in New York where there were many men who had been 
reclaimed from drunkenness. I heard their testimony, and for the first time 
in my life there flashed out a truth I never understood. They said : " We 
were victims of strong drink. We tried to give it up, but always failed ; 
but somehow since we gave our hearts to Christ, He has taken care of us." 
I believe that the time will soon come when the grace of God will show its 
power not only to save man's soul, but his body, and reconstruct, purify, 
elevate, and redeem it. 

YOUR LAST CHANCE. 

I verily believe that, although you feel grappling at the roots of your 
tongues an almost omnipotent thirst, if you will give your heart to God, 
He will help you by His grace to conquer. Try it. It is your last chance. 

Oh, if you could only hear this morning Intemperance with drunkards' 
bones drumming on the head of the liquor-cask the Dead March of 
immortal souls, methinks the very glance of a wine-cup would make you 
shudder, and the color of the liquor would make you think of the blood of 
the soul, and the foam on the top of the cup would remind you of the froth 
on the maniac's lip ; and you would go home from this service and kneel 
down and pray God that, rather than your children should become captives 
of this evil habit, you would like to carry them out some bright spring 



THE MORAL LIFE. 



day to the cemete'ry, and put them away to the last sleep, until at the call 
of the south wind the flowers would come up all over the grave — sweet 
prophecies of the resurrection ! God has a balm for such a wound f but 
what flower of comfort ever grew on the blasted heath of a drunkard's 
sepulchre ? — Talmage. 



THE SALOON. 

IT is impossible to find language which will truly state how great a curse 
the Saloon is. It is an evil in itself, and that uniformly and continually, 
universally and necessarily. Not only does it not supply any legitimate want, 
but it creates illegitimate and unholy wants. It is a child of the devil, and an 
agent of hell. In these days it has become organized, despotic and Satanic 
to an unusual degree ; it has become an institution. It has resolved upon 
political power, and it is massing all its forces with that end in view. It finds 
politicians ready to bow down and worship at its feet, for the sake of the votes 
which it promises to secure and to deliver. It moves forward with gigantic 
stride, with aggressive purpose, and with marvellous wisdom, toward the 
attainment of these unholy ends. Not only is the end it seeks utterly bad, 
but the means it employs to secure its end are the worst which its black 
heart can devise and execute. " , 

THE TIME HAS COME WHEN MEN MUST SPEAK 
out brave and necessarily bitter, words against this gigantic evil. It stalks 
through the land, destroying all that is noblest in our civilization, and 
holiest in our religion. It has trampled on the dearest hopes of fondest 
parents ; it has broken the hearts of the truest and bravest of wives ; it has 
filled the land with mourning, the grave with victims, and hell with 
drunkards. The hands of the Saloon, which recently were lifted up, 
pleading for "Personal Liberty," so-called, were dripping with the blood 
of murdered souls. By all that is sacred in family life, by all that is holy 
in the Church, and by the justice of an Eternal God, we declare that this 
murderer shall die for his God-defying and soul-destroying crimes ! 

The Church of God lifts men up into the noblest manhood; the 
Saloon throws them down into the lowest degradation. The Church 
attempts to make men over into the image of God, the Saloon blots out the 
last trace of that image from their souls. The Saloon robs them of the 
glory of manhood, and of all that makes immortality desirable. The 
knowledge of the wretchedness which it brings to innocent wives and 
children, is enough to break the heart of a thoughtful man with its 
continuous aching. Seeing the work of destruction which it is constantly 



THE MORAL LIFE. ng 

producing, one is led to cry out in the bitterness of his spirit and in the 
agony of his entire being, "How long, O Lord, Holy and True!" The 
misery of the children of drunkards would move the eyes of angels to 
tears. 

The most important reform among workingmen is not fewer hours of 
labor, but fewer glasses of liquor. 

The recent Personal Liberty League had its birth in the Saloon. It 
is a monstrosity, perhaps we ought rather to say that it is the natural 
offspring of monstrous parents. Every one familiar with the history of 
this recent monstrosity can at once divine its unholy parentage ; it is not 
difficult to trace it back to the place and even the time of its birth. Senator 
Windom, whose strong words are not too strong, says : 

I DO NOT OVERSTATE 

it, when I say that the two hundred thousand saloons in this country have 
been instrumental in destroying more human lives, in the last five years, 
than the two millions of armed men did during the four years of the 
rebellion. Whiskey is a more deadly weapon than shot and shell, or any of 
the implements of our improved modern warfare." Surely, society has a 
right to protect itself against so terrific an evil ! Surely, the time has come 
when that protection should be sought and secured ! Surely, the day will 
dawn when the last saloon shall be removed from this long-suffering world ! 
The time has now come when all the friends of the Church of God, and of 
the human race, must be summoned to work along various lines, in order 
to lessen this terrible curse. 

THIS, WE EMPHATICALLY AFFIRM, IS THE MOST 

important question, economically, politically, and religiously, now before 
this republic. The party which will bow down at the feet of the Satanic 
tyrant, Alcohol, is a party for which the world has no use, God no respect, 
and the devil no dread. Politicians must take heed. This nation is 
aroused. It will not longer submit to the dictation of the Saloon. A 
brighter day is dawning. The procession is forming. It will march to the 
music of a redeemed humanity and a triumphant Christ. The train will 
go, whether these liquor-enslaved politicians are on board or not. 

The ultimate end at which we all should aim is the total extinction 
of the Saloon. Toward that end we must move with unfaltering step, with 
buoyant heart and with radiant face. God and eternal truth are on our 
side. 

It is certain that many of the greatest economic, social and religious 
problems of the present and the future are to be solved in America. The 
nation which slew and buried the monster, Slavery, after four years of 



THE MORAL LIFE. 



tears and blood, can slay and bury the twin monster — the Saloon. For this 
work, O Church of the Living God, now gird thyself in the might of thy 
conquering Lord ! The conflict is long and bitter. It was begun in Eden, 
it shall end in Eden restored. Jesus Christ is King. The seed of the 
woman shall crush the head of the serpent. — R. S. Mac Arthur. 



G 



THE DRUNKARD'S DAUGHTER. 

O, feel what I have felt, 

Go, bear what I have borne ; 
Sink 'neath a blow a father dealt, 

And the cold, proud world's scorn ; 
Thus struggle on from year to year, 
Thy sole relief — the scalding tear. 

Go, weep as I have wept, 

O'er a loved father's fall, 
See every cherished promise swept — 

Youth's sweetness turned to gall ; 
Hope's faded flowers strewed all the way 
That led me up to woman's day. 

Go, kneel as I have knelt ; 

Implore, beseech, and pray, 
Strive the besotted heart to melt, 

The downward course to stay; 
Be cast with bitter curse aside — 
Thy prayers burlesqued, thy tears defied. 

Go, stand where I have stood, 

And see the strong man bow ; 
With gnashing teeth, lips bathed in blood, 

And cold and livid brow ; 
Go, catch his wandering glance, and see 
There mirrored, his soul's misery. 

Go, hear what I have heard — 

The sobs of sad despair, 
As memory's feeling fount hath stirred, 

And its revealings there 
Have told him what he might have been. 
Had he the drunkard's fate foreseen. 



THE MORAL LIFE. 



Go to my mother's side, 

And her crushed spirit cheer; 
Thine own deep anguish hide, 

Wipe from her cheek the tear. 
Mark her dimmed eye, her furrowed brow, 
The gray that streaks her dark hair now ; 
Her toil-worn frame, her trembling limb, 
And trace the ruin back to him 
Whose plighted faith, in early youth, 
Promised eternal love and truth ; 
But who, foresworn, hath yielded up 
That promise to the deadly cup, 
And led her down from love and light, 
From all that made her pathway bright, 
And chained her there 'mid want and strife, 
That lowly thing — a drunkard's wife ! 
And stamped on childhood's brow so mild, 
That withering blight, a drunkard's child ! 

Go, hear, and see, and feel, and know, 
All that my soul hath felt and known, 

Then look upon the wine-cup's glow ; 
See if its brightness can atone ; 

Think if its flavor you will try, 

If all proclaimed, " 'Tis drink and die!" 

Tell me I hate the bowl;. 

Hate is a feeble word : 
I loath, abhor — my very soul 

With strong disgust is stirred 
Whene'er I see, or hear, or tell, 
Of the dark beverage of hell ! 



Every act of the man inscribes itself on the memories of his fellows, 
and in his own manners and face. 

To detract from other men, and turn their disadvantages to our 
own profit, is more contrary to nature, than death, poverty, or grief, or 
anything which can affect our bodies or circumstances. 



THE MORAL LIFE. 



DANGER OF DRINK. 

. T N the midst of the mining regions a wealthy contractor gave a grand ball 
1 in his sumptuous parlors. The rooms sparkled with brightness, and 
resounded with music and laughter. In the midst of the revelry the host 
sent a servant below for some forgotten duty, bidding him carry a candle 
with him to light his way. Ten minutes afterward, finding the servant in 
the corridor, he asked him of his errand and finds it done. Where did he 
leave the candle ? Carelessly left it burning, sticking in a barrel of sand 
standing in the cellar. He will go down and blow it out. No, the host will 
go himself. An instant he is on the stair, and then calmness to the winds. 
Oh, awful danger ! Sand ! Blasting powder ! Ten barrels lying there side 
by side ! Any moment an awful explosion may hurl youth and beauty into 
awful death. An instant and he is in the farther cellar. There is the 
candle, beaming out from its socket in the dark, glistening sand of death. 
A current of air has burned it hurriedly, and a long, shining wick is 
hanging down, just ready to fall. Carefully, with hands extended, he 
creeps toward it, holding his very breath, lest it cast down the fatal spark. 
There it goes ! God be merciful ! No, it has caught again in the side of 
the dripping wax. Nearer yet, and then, unmindful of the flame, with tight 
clenched hands, he draws it out, and then reels senseless to the ground 
And when the cool air revives him and he finds again the upper air, his 
hair, black before, is white as driven snow, aged in a single hour. An 
awful danger! A merciful escape! — but not worthy of mention, young 
man, beside the danger of him who lights the faintest gleam of indulgence 
in the midst of this explosive life. Keep away, in God's name, keep away 
from the danger of habit and the man-traps of hell. You are too good to 
be a slave to the devil. Prove it,- and live to honor God and save eternally 
your better self. — Man-Traps of the City. 



I have seen some persons who have had great estates left them, to 
break their fast in plenty, dine in poverty, and sup in infamy. 

A SOUND faith is the best divinity, a good conscience the best law, 
and temperance the best physic. 

One month in the school of affliction will teach' more . than the great 
precepts of Aristotle in seven years, because you can never judge rightly 
of human affairs unless you have felt the blows and found out the deceits 
of fortune. 



THE MORAL LIFE. 123 

GAMBLING RUINS AT LAST. 

AT last ! There lies the value of all in this world, and at last the stake 
is an awful one for him who tampers with honor and risks himself to 
sin. A young man, the messenger of a leading jewelry importer, stood 
upon the deck of a steamer in mid-ocean. He was bearing across the sea a 
jewel of great price, not to be risked but by personal conveyance. The sky 
overhead was blue in its summer depths and the ocean around was placid 
and still as the ship sped away toward the West. He was looking over the 
ship's rail at the hissing current along the iron side as the vessel sped along. 
From somewhere came a thought (who can tell whence thoughts come ?). 
He took from his breast the jewel, and looked at it in the sunlight as it 
burned like a star in its brightness. 

THEN HE LOOKED AT THE WATER SPEEDING 

away ; and then he laughed and walked away. A little, and he was back 
again in the same spot, the jewel in his hand. A sudden madness seemed 
to have taken possession of him, for he reached far out over the water and 
tossed the glistening jewel in the air, and caught it as it fell, there over 
the fathomless sea. And then he shuddered as he turned away and gasped 
to think — if he had lost it ! In a few hours he was back again. A strange 
fascination hung about the daring of his recklessness. Again the jewel 
shone in the sunlight, and he caught it. Again — and he caught it. Still 
again — and he caught it. A mad intoxication seemed to chain him there. 
Again — and he caught it; again — and he caught at it, clutched for it, 
reached for it — but it was gone ; his grasp had failed ; 

AND AS HE REALIZED 

his loss and its senseless folly, reason faded and a gibbering maniac came 
home the monument of a fool's reckless daring. It was a jewel of great 
price, but what, oh, my friend, beside the jewel you imperil — an immortal 
soul? It is the stake that at last is kept or lost. 

Only this single word would I add : You may gain all that the tables 
of earth may bear; you may amass treasure untold, and wealth uncounted, 
and still it may be but the price of a lost soul. For a gambler has but one 
cry at last, and it is that that echoes through the arches of eternal woe. 
And in that cry of anguish, if you turn from God, your voice must join, for 
through all the shadows of abysmal gloom there sounds the accents of that 
one sad wail, lost! lost! lost forever! — Man-Traps of the City. 



Every temptation is great or small according as the man 



I2 4 THE MORAL LIFE. 

THE STORY OF A JUDGE'S SON. 

A LAD Y in one of our Southern cities had her attention arrested one day 
by a ragged and half drunken boy of about seventeen, who was 
declaiming for the amusement of a crowd of drunken loafers, from the 
English and Latin classics, urged on to this exhibition of his powers by the 
promise of "two big drinks." 

An undefinable air of refinement, in spite of his profane and drunken 
conduct, attracted the lady's attention, and his pure pronunciation and 
admirable declamation caused her to stop and listen. While she was 
listening a dispute arose, a fight ensued, and the boy was arrested and 
taken to jail, where it was discovered that he had received internal and fatal 
injuries in the melde. The lady interested herself in him, found that he 
was the son of a rich judge in Mississippi, that he had run away from home 
a year ago, and now he was dying, a drunken vagabond in jail. We will let 
him tell the causes which brought him there in his own words. 

" Were your parents unkind to you that you left them ? " said his 
benefactress. "Unkind," he repeated with a sob. "Oh, I wish I could 
remember a single harsh or unkind word from them ! That would be a 
little excuse, you know. No, they were only too indulgent. I was a little 
wild then, and I 've heard father say, after I'd sowed my wild oats I'd come 
out all right." " I can't understand why you left good parents and home," 
said the lady. " Wait a minute, I'm coming to that. I'm almost ashamed 
to tell it, it sounds so silly. You see I had been reading a great many 
stories of adventure. I bought every new volume as it was issued. My 
parents did not disapprove of these books and did not question me in 
regard to them. They did not suspect how tired I was growing of my dull 
life, and how I longed to imitate some of my plucky young heroes. I 
thought, as soon as I was free, adventure would pile in upon me." " I 
interrupted him," says the lady. "How is it possible that you, whose 
education had been so carefully carried on, who can appreciate the beauties 
of classical literature, could be influenced by such trash?" "I don't know," 
he answered, " but I was. Perhaps I didn't appreciate what you call better 
things, but I learned them by rote because I liked the sound. They didn't 
seem to belong to my real life, these stories did. They were boys like 
myself who did these wonderful things and were so reckless and brave, and 
they lived in a world like ours." 

Thus this boy died ; carefully reared, lovingly nurtured. At seventeen 
years of age he died an outcast, a drunkard, a tramp in jail, and his last 
words were : " Warn, warn all young people whom you know to let these 
foolish books alone. They are very silly, they harm many, and they have 
ruined me. They take you one step on the bad road and the rest comes easy." 



THE MORAL LIFE. * 125 

AMERICA'S MOST POPULAR SIN. 

AMERICANS are the profanest people in the world. A traveller in 
Russia was judged to be a clergyman because he was not heard to 
swear, all other Americans being - supposed to be addicted to this wicked 
practice. 

The air is filled with oaths. Turn where you will, you can hear men 
swear. Young and old, men and women, high and low, rich and poor, 
learned and illiterate, church members and non-church members, prostitute 
the name of God to vile and mean uses. 

LOUIS IX.'S PUNISHMENT FOR SWEARING. 

Louis IX., of France, punished any one who was convicted of swearing 
by searing his lips with a hot iron. If we had such a law in Philadelphia, 
how the hot iron business would flourish. When some one complained to the 
King that the punishment was too severe, he replied, " I would to God that 
by searing my own lips, I could banish out of my realm all abuse of oaths." 
Chrysostom's remedy was : " Every time, whenever thou shalt forget thyself 
to have let slip an oath, punish thyself for it by missing the next meal." 
With such a custom prevailing in our midst, how many boarding-houses 
would flourish ? 

Now, we have five reasons why the name of God should not be taken 
in vain : 

It is useless. Did curses ever start a heavy load? Did they ever 
unravel a tangled skein? Did they ever take the meanness out of a 
customer? Did they ever collect a bad debt? Did they ever cure a 
toothache ? Did they ever accomplish anything ? Verily, the swearer is the 
silliest of all dealers in sin. He sins gratis. He sells his soul for nothing. 

THE FOLLY OF CURSING. 

When Job's misfortunes were completed by being himself smitten 
with boils from head to foot, Mrs. Job, the worst boil he had, virtually said 
to him : " Why don't you swear ? Curse God, though you die in so doing." 
Yet profanity would not have removed one boil, would not have brought 
back one of the captured animals, nor restored any one of the dead children. 

It is cowardly to swear. There was once a man who swore dreadfully 
in the presence of others, but was rebuked by a gentleman, who told him 
that it was cowardly for him to do in the presence of others that which he 
did not dare do by himself. "Ah," said the man, "I am not afraid to swear 
at any time or in any place." " I'll give you ten dollars," said the gentleman, 
"if you will go in the village graveyard at twelve o'clock to-night and utter 
the same oaths you have just uttered here, when you are alone with God." 



126 THE MORAL LIFE. 

"Agreed," said the man; "it's an easy way of earning ten dollars." "Well, 
you come to me to-morrow, and say that you have done it, and the money 
is yours." He was impatient for the midnight hour. When the time came 
he hurried to the graveyard. Darkness and silence were brooding like 
spirits o'er the still and pulseless world. Beneath him the many dead, 
above him pitch darkness. The words, " alone with God," came over him 
with mighty power; a deep sense of his monstrous folly and heinous 
wickedness fell upon him like the sudden pealing thunder of the midnight 
storm. His further endeavors were thwarted by the Invisible One. He 
could go no further. Instead of carrying out his purpose, acting rudely and 
saucily with God ; instead of blistering his mouth with hot and sulphurous 
oaths, he was humbled, and trembling, cried with a loud voice, " God be 
merciful to me a sinner." The next day he went to the gentleman and 
thanked him for what he had done; and said he had resolved never to 
swear another oath as long as he lived. 

TO SWEAR IS IMPOLITE. 

Cowper once wrote : 

" It chills my blood to hear the blest Supreme, 
Lightly appealed to on each trifling theme ; 
Maintain your rank ; vulgarity despise ; 
To swear is neither brave, polite, nor wise." 

Can he who leads every sentence with an oath or a curse, wear the name 
and garb of a gentleman ? This reminds me of that incident of Abraham 
Lincoln, who said to a person sent to him by one of the Senators, and who 
in conversation uttered an oath : " I thought the Senator had sent me a 
gentleman. I see I was mistaken. There is the door, and I bid you 
good-day." 

VULGARITY OF SWEARING. 

Profanity indicates low . breeding. It detracts from the grace of 
conversation. It is an evidence of a weak brain and limited ideas. I care 
not what kind of clothes a man wears; what culture he boasts; what 
refinement he prides in ; what family connections he has ; how much he 
may restrain himself in the presence of ladies, he who fears not to rush 
into the presence of a thrice holy and Almighty God, with oaths upon his 
lips, is no gentleman. No language can be more disgustful, more grate 
the ear or fret the heart, than to hear the God of Heaven summoned in 
attestation of tattle, or challenged to damn and destroy. 

Swearing is ivicked. It springs from a mere malignancy of spirit in 
man against God, because he has forbidden it. As far as the violation of 



THE MORAL LIFE. 127 



the command of God is concerned, the swearer is equally guilty with the 
murderer, the unchaste person, the robber, and the liar. Whose is this 
name which men roll off the lips of blasphemy as though they were 
speaking of some low vagabond. God ! Yes, men swear by the name of 
God. It makes my hair rise, my flesh creep, my blood chill, my breath 
catch, my foot halt. God! In whose presence the highest and purest 
seraphim veil their faces, and cry in notes responsive to each other : " Holy I 
Holy! Holy! Lord God of Hosts!" God! God Almighty! Think! Swearer, 
think ! You are guilty of a sin that mounts to Heaven with daring, and is 
hurled back into your blasphemous teeth with withering condemnation. 
Every star in the heavens flashes rebuke into your face ; every quivering 
leaf, every lurid shaft of lightning, every shock of thunder, all the voices 
of the tempest, the harping angels, and the very scoffing devils rebuke you. 
Who will ever again malign the name of God? Is there a hand in this 
vast congregation to-night that will ever again be lifted to wound him ? If 
so, let that hand, blood-tipped, be lifted now. Which one of you will ever 
again use his name in imprecation? If any, let them speak. Not one! 
Not one ! 

THE DANGER OF SWEARING. 

Swearing is a dangerous sin. The third commandment is the only 
one in the decalogue to which is affixed the certainty of punishment : " For 
the Lord will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain." It was 
a capital offence under the Levitical law (Lev. xx: 10). The New Testament 
reiterates in paragraph after paragraph and chapter after chapter, that 
profane swearers are accursed now, and are to be forever miserable. No 
wonder that this iniquity has so often been visited with the immediate 
curse of God. Profane swearer, whether you think so or not, your oath is 
a prayer — an appeal to God. How frequently the awful imprecations damn 
and God damn roll from your profane tongue. Are you really desirous of 
an answer to your prayer? Be thankful that your prayer has not been 
answered. 

A COWARDLY HABIT. 

The oaths that you utter may die on the air, but God hears them, 
and they have an eternal echo. I beseech you, I conjure you, break off this 
useless, impolite, cowardly, wicked, and dangerous habit ere the brittle 
thread of life breaks, and you are plunged into eternal misery. Oh! let 
your oaths be turned into supplications! Repair immediately to the 
throne of grace, and beg for pardon and mercy. Before you lay down this 
book, turn to Jesus, who died for swearers as well as for his murderers. 
And then, oh then, though you may have sworn as many oaths as there are 



128 THE MORAL LIFE. 



stars in the heavens, and sands upon the sea-shore innumerable — then you 
shall find, to your eternal joy, that there is love in His heart, and merit in 
His blood, sufficient to pardon your sins and save your soul forever. 
Swearer, can you ever again blaspheme such a God and Saviour as this? 
Does not your conscience cry, God forbid ? Even so. Amen. 



THE HORRORS OF CIGARETTE SMOKING. 

AS to cigarette smoking, properly practised and with due regard to 
moderation, and provided also that pure tobacco be used, I can not 
see how it is more injurious than cigars or pipes. But no speedier method 
for rendering existence painful is more efficacious than to smoke cigarettes 
and to inhale the fumes into the lungs. By this practice a very large 
absorbing surface is exposed to the action of the nicotine and other 
poisonous products which are evolved when tobacco is burned. As a 
consequence, the system is more thoroughly subjected to their influence ; 
and disease more certainly produced. The action of the brain is impaired 
thereby, the ability to think, and, in fact, all mental concentration are 
weakened. Neuralgia, especially about the face, throat diseases, nasal 
catarrh, serious affections of the eyes, dyspepsia, and, above all, interruption 
in the normal action of the heart, are among the consequences resulting 
from the inordinate use of tobacco and especially from the inhalation of 
cigarette smoke. This is not mere theory, for I have seen many cases of 
all these disorders in the course of my practice as a physician, and have 
known them to be directly traceable to the cause mentioned. Laws for the 
repression of cigarette smoking by young persons are difficult, if not 
impossible, of enforcement. It can be prevented only through the proper 
education of parents and guardians, and the children themselves. 

VILELY ADULTERATED. 

Investigation shows that the cigarettes sold in this country are, as a 
rule, vilely adulterated, and with substances even more injurious than 
tobacco. Something might be done, perhaps, by the passage of laws 
preventing the manufacture or sale of cigarettes. Surely, if the law can 
interfere to stop the production of oleomargarine on the ground of its being 
prejudicial to the health of the public, it might properly be invoked on the 
same plea for the manufacture of cigarettes. Some states do not allow 
alcohol in any form to be produced or sold within their limits, and yet I am 
inclined to believe that more injury can be inflicted on the human race by 
the excessive use of tobacco by young persons than by immoderate liquor 



THE MORAL LIFE. 129 



drinking. The latter would probably kill more quickly and before the 
subject would have an opportunity of procreating the species, but the 
former would certainly destroy the health and vitality of those who might 
descend from him. In the city of Washington I saw a few days ago a 
wretched looking child, scarcely five years old, smoking a cigarette and 
blowing the smoke from his nostrils. His pale, pinched face was twitching 
convulsively, his little shoulders were bent, and his whole appearance was 
that of an old man. Should he live to become the father of a family, what 
kind of children is he likely to have ? — Dr. Hammond. 



OPIUM. 



IT is estimated that 400,000 women in America eat opium. The use of 
opium as a medicine can be traced back to Diagoras, who was nearly 
contemporary with Hippocrates ; but opium was probably used before his 
time. It is at present more frequently used than any other article of 
materia medica. The Hindoos and Mohammedans find in this narcotic the 
most pleasing substitute for alcoholic drinks which are interdicted by their 
religion. In Persia, Turkey, and among many nations of the East, opium 
is as common as tobacco is in the West. It is employed by many for its 
exhilarating effect and anodyne influence. While the pernicious influence 
of opium extends to all parts of the system, it is directed with peculiar force 
to the brain, and even in moderation excites sometimes to intoxication or 
delirium. In a short time this excitement subsides, a calmness of the 
corporeal actions and a delightful placidity of mind succeed, and the opium 
drunkard is forgetful of all sources of care, conscious of no feeling other 
than that of quiet enjoyment. At the end of about half an hour from the 
administration of the drug, consciousness is lost in sleep. Opium, like 
other 

" 111 habits gather by unseen degrees, 
As brooks make rivers, rivers run to seas." 

Used to excess, opium debilitates the system, darkens the counte- 
nance; then comes the slow, scarcely-perceptible respiration, the cold, 
clammy skin, insensibility to external impressions, all leading, slowly it 
may be, but surely, to a death of agony. Pastors and physicians alone know 
the appalling work of opium. Oh man, oh woman, stand back from this 
steal thly, deceitful, deathful habit! The momentary ecstasies do not pay 
for the eternal horrors. 



130 THE MORAL LIFE. 

Morphia, the active principle of opium, a blessing from God for the 
relief of excruciating pain, was never intended for permanent use. Let 
physicians say so, and let us have a law forbidding druggists selling on old 
prescriptions. Druggists tell me that more women than men, and those of 
wealthy and intelligent families, rather than the poor and ignorant, go down 
under the power of morphia. It is estimated that there are at least ten 
thousand opium victims in Philadelphia. A leading druggist told me: 
" I can tell them as soon as I see them ; there is something about theii 
manner, something about the looks of their eyes that show that they are 
victims." 

Opium is coming on with mighty tread to curse this country. And 
it is time that the pulpit and the press, the authorized rebukers of wrong 
the creators of public sentiment, go to work to extirpate this evil. 



STRAY ARROWS FROM THE EDITOR'S QUIVER. 

DRINK a glass of whisky and it passes into your blood, through youi 
heart, into the lungs and finally into the brain. Every part of the body 
tries to refuse it admission, and so it hurries on, but leaves somewhat of 
itself behind, poisoning everything it touches, its baneful influence remains. 
When the alcohol reaches the heart it goads the heart to greater work, and 
so the heart beats faster. The normal condition of the heart is 100,000 
strokes a day, but an abnormal condition produced by the use of alcohol, 
increases the heart's work to 130,000 strokes a day. This extra labor is very 
wearing upon the heart. The manifestation of this undue excitement of 
the heart is felt in the morning headache after last night's drunk. Alcohol 
kept the heart pumping all night when it should have been resting. 

The following table, prepared from a series of careful observations 
made by Mr. F. G. P. Nelson, of London, contrasts the " Expectations of 
Life" for temperate and intemperate persons: 





Temperate. 


Intemperate. 


Loss of Life. 


Iges. 


Years. 


Years. 


Years. 


20 


44-2 


15-5 


287 


30 


36-5 


13-8 


227 


40 


28-8 


1 1-6 


17-2 


5o 


21*2 


10-9 


10-3 


60 


I4-3 


8-9 


5*4 



Is not whisky a good thing in its place ? Nothing better to preserve 
a dead man, but nothing worse to keep a living man. If you want to keep 



THE MORAL LIFE. 131 

a. dead man put him into whisky, but if you want to kill a living man, put 
whisky into him. Whisky is good enough to preserves corpses, but don't 
let it turn you into a corpse. 

PUTTING AN ENEMY INTO YOUR MOUTH. 

Why spend your money for strong drink? There are men who are 
shrewd in all their dealings, but will allow themselves to be cheated by 
unhealthy adulterations, and put an enemy into their mouths that will rob 
them of their senses. 

The most important physiological effect of alcohol in the human 
system is that of a contracting or puckering up of the softer animal tissues. 
I took a piece of fresh beef and the alcohol whitened and hardened it. 
Brandy in six days consumed fresh meat. A raw oyster, which is very 
digestible, it shriveled and toughened as leather Such in a degree is the 
effect produced by the contact of alcohol with the stomach. The white of 
an egg is nearly pure albumen, and albumen forms a constituent part of the 
essential fluids necessary to digestion. Alcohol hardens the albumen, and 
hence interferes with the proper digestion of food, and thus we have the 
prevalency of disorders of the digestive organs among persons who drink. 
This is in itself a refutation of the claim so often made that alcohol is a 
tonic. 

Alcohol does not create a healthy condition of the body; the 
corpulency of beer and wine drinkers seldom continues to old age. First 
the legs, then the shoulders give way, and finally the whole body becomes 
loose and flabby. 

A GENERAL CORPULENCE OF THE BODY IS NOT A HEALTHY STATE, 

but the reverse. No animal in the state of nature exhibits any considerable 
deposit of fat. Animals are fattened only for the slaughter. Certain 
classes of men have the appearance of great bodily vigor, notwithstanding 
the habitual use of liquor, and undergo great muscular exertion, but the 
constitutions of such men break down before they are advanced in years ; 
diseases and injuries of the most trifling character are often very serious : 
the slightest scratch or bruise often causing a fatal attack of erysipelas, etc. 
Surgeons unwillingly perform operations on drinking men, because the 
chance of recovery is so small. 

John Quincy Adams, ex-President of the United States, says : " In 
my early youth I was addicted to the use of tobacco. More than thirty 
years have passed away since I renounced its use. I have often wished 
that every individual of the human race afflicted with this artificial passion, 
could prevail upon himself to try but for three months the experiment 



132 THE MORAL LIFE. 

which I have made, feeling sure that it would turn every acre of tobacco 
land into a wheat field, and add five years of longevity to human life." 

James Parton, the American biographer, Who discontinued the use 
of tobacco after having been a slave to it for thirty years, says: " I have 
less headache, I enjoy exercise more, and step out much more vigorously. 
My room is cleaner, I think I am better tempered, as well as more cheerful 
and satisfied. T endure the inevitable ills of life with more fortitude, and 
look forward more hopefully to the coming years. // did not pay to smoke, 
but it decidedly pays to stop smoking." 

SOWING WILD OATS. 

Young man, I warn you against the man who lives fast, knows the 
town, is up to all the dodges of licentious villainy, rolls all the vile and 
sensual gossip under his tongue, who boasts of the "wild oats" he is 
sowing, and who takes a fiendish delight in undermining the principle and 
ridiculing the scruples of the uninitiated. Cut such a companion off and 
cast him from you. Forsake that saloon, give up that club, frequent no 
longer that convivial meeting which breaks up after the midnight hour, 
and the members of which, inflamed with strong drink and licentious 
stories and songs, go madly to seek the gratification of their fevered and 
raging lusts. " Come out from among them and be separate." It is better 
that you should go companionless to Heaven, than that with these sons of 
Belial you should be cast into hell. 

It is estimated that while fewer women drink than men, yet a larger 
proportion of those who do drink become habitual drunkards, and while 
men reform women seldom do. In New York City, in ten years, of 133,000 
persons arrested for intoxication, 66,000 were women. Multitudes of 
women drink, and it is no unusual thing to see acknowledged ladies at 
balls, dinners and in fashionable gatherings so overpowered by an old- 
fashioned drunk that they can hardly sit up. 

" When lovely woman stoops to folly, 
And finds too late that nips betray, 
What charm can soothe her melancholy? 
What art can wash her guilt away?" 

We desire to hint briefly that a low-necked dress is not the proper 
dress for church, if, indeed, for anywhere. We have seen this sort of thing 
at a church wedding. St. Paul says, "It is a shame for a woman to pray 
unto God uncovered." He meant, we believe, with uncovered head; 
how much more would he have preached against a much greater 
impropriety. 



THE MORAL LIFE. 133 



Cigarette smoking has become so prevalent among our boys, that its 
deadly bane has led some of our legislatures to pass acts " prohibiting the 
sale of cigarettes or tobacco in any of its forms to minors." Dr. Hammond 
says : " Cigarettes produce facial neuralgia, insomnia, nervous dyspepsia, 
sciatica and an indisposition to mental exertion." Cigarettes are beginning 
to overshadow all other branches of the tobacco business, and our most 
eminent physicians agree in condemning cigarette smoking as one of the 
most destructive evils- that ever befell our youth, and declare that its direct 
tendency is a deterioration of the race. Even females, who call themselves 
ladies, habitually use cigarettes. The New York Tribune asserts : "The 
extent to which drugs are used in cigarettes is appalling." 

Life insurance is a business, and is run, not on sentiment or religion, 
but on business principles. But life insurance men find that theyvcan not 
afford to insure beer-drinkers at the same rates as abstainers. Says Col. 
Green, President of the Connecticut Mutual Company : 

" In one of our largest cities, containing a great population of beer- 
drinkers, I had the occasion to note the deaths among a large group of 
persons whose habits, in their own eyes and in those of their physicians and 
friends, were temperate ; but they were habitual users of beer. When I began 
they were, on an average, something under middle age ; and they were of 
course ' selected lives. For two or three years nothing remarkable was to 
be noted. But presently death began to strike down the group, until it 
had dwindled to a fraction ; the mortality was astounding in extent, and 
still more remarkable in the manifest identity of cause and mode. 

" There was no mistaking; the history was almost invariable — robust, 
apparent health, full muscles, fair outside, increasing weight ; then a touch 
of cold, or a sniff of malaria, and instantly some acute disease, with almost 
invariably typhoid symptoms was in violent action, and ten days or less 
ended life. It was as if the system within was eaten to a shell, and at the 
touch of disease there was utter collapse, every fibre being poisoned and 
weak. This, in its main features, has been my observation of beer-drinking 
everywhere — peculiarly deceptive at first, thoroughly destructive at last." 

Treating is a trick of the devil. America is the only place where the 
foolish and expensive show of hospitality is recognized. In Europe 
you insult a man if you ask him to come to a public place and let you pay for 
what he drinks. Here, the custom is universal, and many a young man is 
established in intemperance because he feels himself bound by a law of 
reciprocal generosity to treat. 

Let your motto be : / will neither treat nor be treated. 



134 THE MORAL LIFE. 

False swearing is a gross crime. The lying witness does much hurt. 
He corrupts the judge ; oppresses the innocent, suppresses the truth. He 
endangers the life, the liberty and all that is sacred to man. The false 
witness bearer is the most vile and infamous, the most pernicious and 
perilous instrument of injustice ; the most desperate enemy of man's right 
and safety that can be. 

I don't believe that the cultivation of a horse's speed is a sin. If the 
Lord made fast horses, it was to have them go fast. But the evil begins 
when the betting begins — when fast horses make fast men. Gambling is 
accursed of God. Upon the brow of every pool-seller I would write the 
unmistakable word " Swindler." I know of many men and women who 
bet on horses last summer, and I do not know of one who won. I am glad 
of it. I hope it may so discourage them that they may quit. If a man 
gain he is apt to go right on to hell. 

Don't debauch your conscience. Tell the truth about your goods, 
though you may be discharged the next moment. You can not afford to lie, 
cheat, deceive, and swindle. At the bar of conscience the commercial lie is 
as bad as any other lie, and at the day of judgment the business liar will go 
down to death under as deep a condemnation as any other. 

Tell the truth. Undoubtedly it is a hard thing for a man in business 
to tell the truth when it ought to be told. Tell the truth, no matter what 
is the custom of the trade — the established, acknowledged custom of the 
trade. 

To tell the truth at all times and under all circumstances requires as 
much heroism as was ever displayed upon the field of battle. Of all the 
valiant men in the world, let him be chief who dares to tell the truth ! 

Warburton says: " Lies . have no legs and cannot stand;" but they 
have wings and can fly like a vampire. Lies go by telegraph ; truth comes 
by mail one day late. Some one has said : "A big lie, like a big fish on dry 
land, will fret and fling, but will die of itself if left alone." The half-truth 
lies are the most dangerous of all lies. In Siam, a kingdom of Asia, he who 
is found guilty of telling a lie has his mouth sewed up. If we had such a 
law what a demand there would be for needles and thread ! Even a white 
lie is a base, degrading thing. A lie is a lie. "No man zvas ever lost in a 
straight road." 

If you will make a fool of yourself for the gratification of other 
people, with a "hip! hip! hurrah!" they will declare that you are the best 



THE MORAL LIFE. 135 

fellow in the world, but as soon as your money is gone, depend upon it 
your friends (?) will be gone, too. 

The prodigal son was at last compelled to feed swine — most scurvy 
work— -and bow many men — men, did I say? Excuse the mistake — how 
many swells, who live off the earnings of their fathers, if they were thrown 
upon their own resources, would be fit for no better employment than 
herding swine ? 



TRUE STANDARD OF MORALITY. 

AM AN'S moral worth is not to be graduated by his negative virtues — the 
evil he merely refrains from doing— but by the amount of temptation he 
•overcomes. He is not to be judged by his defeats alone, but also by his 
victories. Many a man passes through life without a spot on his character, 
who, notwithstanding, never struggled so bravely as he who fell and was 
disgraced. The latter may have called to his aid more principle, overcome 
more evil, before he yielded, than the former, either from circumstances or 
his physical constitution, was ever called to do. It would be as unnatural, 
it would require as great an effort for the cold, phlegmatic and passionless 
being to be vehement, wild and headlong, as for the fiery and tempestuous 
man to be quiet and emotionless. 

Victory is nothing — it depends upon the nature of the conflict and the 
•odds evercome. Greater generalship, cooler bravery, and loftier effort may 
be shown in one defeat than in a hundred victories. We have no patience 
with those moralists of mere animal organization, who place the finest 
wrought spirits God ever let visit the earth, on their iron bedstead, and 
stretch and clip according to the simple rule- of long measure. A higher 
and juster standard is needed. A passionate and highly-strung nature can 
be no more understood by the dealer in stocks and real estate, or the dull 
plodder in the routine of his daily duties, than the highest paroxysm of the 
poet can be comprehended by his dog. — /. T. Headley. 



JELLY-BAG READERS. 

COLERIDGE divides all readers into four classes: "The hour-glasses 
readers, whose reading, like the sand, runs in and then out, leaving 
nothing behind ; the sponge-readers, who imbibe everything only to return 
it as they got it, or dirtier ; the jelly-bag readers, who let the pure pass and 
keep only the dregs and refuse ; and the fourth class, who, like the slaves in 
Golconda mines, cast aside all that is worthless, and keep only the diamonds 



136 THE MORAL LIFE. 

and gems. The class of books and papers generally read are only the dregs 
and refuse, and this never gets strained out of the reader's lives until the 
day they die." 

CHARACTERISTICS OF GRUMBLERS. 

IF all the grumblers in the world were summoned together by some 
thundering calliope, what an army there would be! 4 Since the days of 
Xerxes, nothing could compare with such an host. You will find them 
everywhere as thick as the frogs of Egypt, no trade, calling, or profession is 
free from them. Let us describe them. Grumblers are usually a very lazy 
set. Having no disposition to work themselves, they spend their time in 
whining and complaining about their own affairs and those of their 
neighbors. They are usually a year behind the age, and, therefore, when 
they undertake an enterprise, they find themselves so far down the stream, 
that all the winds and tides of sympathy, so necessary to success, are against 
them. They are usually very independent, "caring nothing for nobody." 
Determined to go it "blind," they find it a "wide berth," and a "hard road 
to travel" wherever they go. They are easily scared. They always see 
double: a lion is in the way sure; no mistake about it. There is always 
"something about to happen." "Look out for breakers," is the one refrain 
of their every-day song. They have as capacious an appetite for favors as 
for food; and are therefore always on hand, and "just in time to accept the 
gift of a very particular friend." Their favorite motto is, " small favors thank- 
fully received, and larger ones in proportion." They are always very jealous 
of "character and influence in society," and generally "quite as good as 
anybody:" they should therefore be treated with great consideration. They 
are usually long-lived, as their disease is incurable ; they should be treated 
as the lepers are, kept by themselves where they can grumble at each other 
to their heart's content. 

ENERVATING INFLUENCE OF NOVELS. 

THE habit of novel-reading must inevitably enervate your manhood, and 
dwarf your mind, and give you a disrelish for the great and grand 
and true in the world of thought. If our youth would be men, and not 
sink in effeminacy, they must leave the region of sickly sentimentalism, 
rise above the childish pursuits of butterflies, and live in regions of lofty 
thought, and associate with the master-minds of Creation, by pondering 
over the productions of their splendid and affluent genius. This will 
enlarge the sphere of the thinking faculty, give it quickening impulses, and 
lead the mind upward to all that is glorious and divine in the world of 
intellect. — R. Roberts. 



THE MORAL LIFE. 137 



A GLASS OF COLD WATER. 

WHERE is the liquor which God the Eternal brews for all his children? 
Not in the simmering- still, over smoky fires choked with poisonous 
gases, surrounded with the stench of sickening odors, and rank corruptions, 
doth your Father in Heaven prepare the precious essence of life — the pure 
cold water. But in the green glade and grassy dell, where the red deer 
wanders, and the child loves to play; there God brews -it. And down, low 
down in the lowest valleys, where the fountains murmur and the rills sing ; 
and high upon the tall mountain tops, where the naked granite glitters like 
gold in the sun ; where the storm-cloud broods, and the thunder-storms 
crash ; and away far out on the wide wild sea, where the hurricane howls 
mus*ic, and the big waves roar ; the chorus sweeping the march of God : 
there he brews it — that beverage of life and health-giving water. And 
everywhere it is a thing of beauty, gleaming in the dew-drop ; singing in the 
summer rain ; shining in the ice-gems till the leaves all seem to turn to 
living jewels; spreading a golden veil over the setting sun; or a white 
gauze around the midnight moon. 

Sporting in the cataract; sleeping in the glacier; dancing in the hail 
shower; folding its bright snow curtains softly about the wintry world; 
and waving the many-colored iris, that seraph's zone of the sky, whose warp 
is the rain-drop of earth, whose roof is the sunbeam of Heaven; all 
checkered over with celestial flowers, by the mystic hand of refraction. 

Still always it is beautiful, that life-giving water ; no poison bubbles 
on its brink; its foam brings not madness and murder; no blood stains its 
liquid glass ; pale widows and starving orphans weep no burning tears in 
its depth; no drunken, shrieking ghost from the grave curses it in the 
words of eternal despair; speak on, my friends, would you exchange for it 
demon's drink, alcohol! 



A wise man valueth content more than riches, and a virtuous mind 
rather than great preferment. 

A just man should account nothing more precious than his word, 
nothing more venerable than his faith, and nothing more sacred than his 
promise. 

Time, patience, and industry are three grand masters of the world ; 
they bring a man to the end of his desires, whereas an imprudent and 
turbulent murmur oftentimes turns him out of the ways of his proposed 
ends. 



138 THE MORAL LIFE. 



SONG OF THE DECANTER. 

There was an old decanter, 
and its mouth was gaping 
wide ; the rosy wine 
had ebbed away 
and left 
its crys- 
tal side; 
and the wind 
went humming, 
humming; 
up and 
down the 
sides it flew, 
and through the 
reed-like 
hollow neck 
the wildest notes it 
blew. I placed it in the 
window, where the blast was 
blowing free, and fancied that its 
pale mouth sang the queerest strains 
to me. "They tell me — puny con- 
querors!— the Plague has slain his ten, 
and War his hundred thousands of the 
very best of men ; but I " — 'twas thus 
the bottle spoke — "but I have con- 
quered more than all your famous con- 
querors, so feared and famed of yore. 
Then come, ye youths and maidens, 
come drink from out my cup, the bev- 
erage that dulls the brain and burns 
the spirit up; that puts to shame 
the conquerors that slay their 
scores below; for this has del- 
uged millions with the lava tide 
of woe. Though, in the path 
of battle, darkest waves of 
blood may roll; yet while 
I killed the body, I have 
damned the very soul. 
The cholera, the sword, 
such ruin never wrought, 
as I, in mirth or malice, on 
the innocent have brought. 
And still I breathe upon them, 
and they shrink before my breath ; 
and year by year my thousands tread 

THE FEARFUL ROAD TO DEATH. 



THE MORAL LIFE. 139 

CHARLES LAMB TO YOUNG MEN. 

THE waters have gone over me. But out of the black depths, could I be 
heard, I could cry out to all those who have but set a foot in the 
perilous flood. Could the youth to whom the flavor of his first wine is 
delicious as the opening scenes of life, or the entering upon some newly 
discovered paradise, look into my desolation and be made to understand 
what a dreary thing it is when a man shall feel himself going down a 
precipice with open eyes and a passive will — to see his destruction and 
have no power to stop it, and yet feel it all the way emanating from himself, 
to see all godliness emptied out of him and yet not able to forget a time 
when it was otherwise ; to bear about him the piteous spectacle of his own 
ruin. Could he see my fevered eye — feverish with the last night's drinking 
and feverishly looking for to-night's repetition of the folly ; could he but 
feel the body of the death out of which I cry, hourly with feebler outcry, to 
be delivered — it were enough to make him dash the sparkling beverage to 
the earth in all the pride of its mantling temptation. 



AN ELOQUENT INDICTMENT. 

INTEMPERANCE cuts down youth in all its vigor, manhood in all its 
strength, and age in its weakness. It breaks the father's heart, bereaves 
the doting mother, extinguishes the natural affection, erases conjugal love, 
blots out filial attachments, blights parental hopes and brings mourning 
age in sorrow to the grave. It produces weakness, not strength ; sickness, 
not health; death, not life. It makes wives widows, children orphans, 
parents childless, and all at last beggars. It produces fevers, feeds 
rheumatism, nurses gout, welcomes epidemic, .invites disease, imparts 
pestilence, embraces consumption, cherishes dyspepsia, and encourages 
apoplexy and paralytic affections. 

It covers the land with idleness and poverty, disease and crime. It 
fills our jails, supplies our almshouses and furnishes subjects for our 
asylums. It engenders controversies, fosters quarrels and cherishes riot. 
It condemns law and spurns order. It crowds the penitentiary and 
furnishes victims for the scaffolds. It is the life-blood of the gambler, the 
food of the counterfeiter, the prop of the highwayman and the support of 
the midnight incendiary and assassin, the" friend and companion of the 
brothel. 

It countenances the liar, respects the thief, and esteems the 
blasphemer. It violates obligations, reverences fraud and honors infamy. 
It defames benevolence, hates love, scorns virtue and slanders innocence. 



140 THE MORAL LIFE. 

It incites the father to butcher his innocent children, helps the husband to 
kill his wife, and aids the child to grind the parricidal ax. It burns up 
men, consumes women, detests life, curses God and despises Heaven. It 
suborns witnesses, nurses perjury, defiles the jury box, stains the judicial 
ermine. 

It bribes votes, corrupts elections, poisons our institutions and 
endangers our government. It degrades the citizen, lowers the legislator, 
and dishonors the statesman. It brings shame, not honor; terror, not 
safety; despair, not hope; misery, not happiness, and then, with the 
malevolence of a fiend, it calmly surveys its frightful desolation, and 
insatiate with havoc, it poisons felicity, kills peace, ruins morals, blights 
confidence, slays reputation, and wipes out national honors; then curses 
the world and laughs at the ruin it has inflicted on the human race. — Dr. 
Gunn. 



THERE'S DANGER IN THE GLASS. 

There's danger in the glass. Beware 
lest it enslaves. They who have 
drained it find, alas! too often early 
graves. It sparkles to allure, with 
its rich, ruby light! There is no 
antidote or cure. Only its course 
to fight. It changes man to 
brutes; makes women bow 
their heads; fills homes 
with anguish, want, dis- 
putes, and takes from 
children bread. Then 
dash the glass away, 
and from the 

serpent flee; 
drink pure cold 
wa t e r day by 
day, 
an d 
walk 
God's 
FOOTSTOOL FREE! 

— Tid-Bits. 







"We are Two Travellers, Roger and I, 



THE MORAL LIFE. 143 



ALCOHOL AS A POISON. 

IT is quite clear that alcohol is a functional poison of the narcotic class. 
Its action on the brain shows the gradations of stimulation, overaction, 
inhibited action and actual narcosis. These effects, unless positively fatal, 
are transitory. But it is also clear that this not the whole of its injurious 
effect; since, if the functional disturbance be often repeated, the brain itself 
will come in the end to be damaged. But it may be supposed this damage 
is caused by the excess or repetition of the functional disturbance. Such 
an explanation will not, however, apply. Some organs, such as peripheral 
nerves, are damaged, in which no functional disturbance from the imme- 
diate action of alcohol can be traced. Hence we conclude that alcohol is also 
a tissue poison damaging the structure of the tissue elements. This effect is 
not seen after a single dose, even a fatal dose, at least so far as is known, but 
only after repeated action of the poison. When its action is perceptible it 
is quite comparable to that of the so-called irritant, especially metallic, 
poisons, such as lead, arsenic, antimony, etc., with phosphorous, and even 
mineral acids. 

IT IS NOW RECOGNIZED THAT THESE SUBSTANCES, IF ABSORBED, ACT 

on all or most tissues of the body which they reach in proportion to the 
degree of concentration in which they may be present, and to the suscepti- 
bility of the different parts. This is also true of alcohol. It is carried by 
the blood to all parts (having been detected in the brain and various organs), 
and acts most powerfully in the first instance on the parts which it reaches 
with the least amount of dilution ; that is, the stomach and liver. In the 
second place, it acts on the nervous tissues as being more vulnerable than 
the rest. Again, the influence of concentration in relation to the tissue 
damage is seen in the fact that alcohol in a dilute form injures the tissues 
much less than the same amount in a concentrated form, though the 
narcotic effect may be the same. 

TISSUE POISONS. 

Another law of tissue poisons is, that they all have, within certain 
limits, the same action, or at least there are certain modes of action common 
to all. These common modes of action belonging to all tissue poisons I will 
endeavor to state, and then see whether alcohol acts in the same way. 

The first effect of such poisons is seen on the more vulnerable or 
parenchymatous elements, namely, nerve, epithelium, muscle fibre. On 
these parts, their action is essentially necrotic, producing, if in a low 
degree, parenchymatous degeneration ; in a higher degree, actual necrosis, 



144 THE MORAL LIFE. 



though if the injury be not too severe, repair is possible. This is true of 
arsenic, antimony, sulphuric acid; and, with some modification, of phos- 
phorus. I would submit that this is also true of alcohol, which produces 
degeneration, or ultimately necrosis, of mucous membrane of stomach, liver 
cells, nerve fibres, nerve cells, and muscle fibres. 

Another effect of all tissue poisons, if sufficiently concentrated, is to 
injure the blood vessels, causing exudation and cell migration ; that is, 
inflammation as generally understood. It is obvious that this is true of all 
irritant poisons. If chronic, this inflammation sometimes results in hyper- 
plasia of connective tissue. I submit that concentrated alcohol acts on the 
stomach, for instance, to which it is directly applied, in the same way, 
setting up acute inflammation. The action of alcohol, however, is never 
quite so intense as that of some metallic poisons, since it never produces 
suppuration, nor has it an actually corrosive action. Its continuous or 
chronic action is to produce connective tissue hyperplasia, fibroid changes 
or cancer. 

MODES OF ACTION. 

Besides these two modes of action, alcohol has one almost peculiar to 
itself: that of causing accumulation or infiltration of fat, in various parts of 
the body, especially where such accumulation naturally takes place, as in 
liver, omentum, subcutaneous tissue. Phosphorus is like alcohol in this 
respect, and so is, to some extent, arsenic. This change may be called 
"steatosis." It is explained, apparently with reason, as due to deficient 
oxidation, or impeded cell-respiration, the alcohol or phosphorus being 
oxidized in place of the fat, which should be burnt up in the cell. * * * 

To sum up. The action of alcohol on tissues or tissue elements is 
three-fold: (i) As a functional poison. (2) As a tissue poison or destructive. 
(3) As a checker of oxidation. And in these respects it may be paralleled 
by other substances called poisons, and by others which are generally 
considered innocuous. — Dr. Payne. 



"W 



WHAT A JUG DID. 

HY is my house so shabby and old, 
At every crevice letting in cold; 
And the kitchen walls all covered with mould?" 
Go ask your jug! 



THE MORAL LIFE. 145 



Why are my eyes so swollen and red ? 
Whence is this dreadful pain in my head ? 
Where in the world is our nice feather-bed, 
And the wood that was piled in the shed ?" 
Go ask your jug! 

Why is my wife heart-broken and sad ? 
Why are my children never now glad ? 
Why did my business run down so bad ? 
Why at my thoughts am I well-nigh mad?" 
Go ask your jug! 

' Oh, why do I pass the old church-door, 
Weary of heart and sadly foot-sore, 
Every moment sinking down lower, 
A pitiable outcast evermore?" 
Go ask your jug! 



DEGRADATION OF THE INEBRIATE. 

ROGUES have had the initial letter of their title burnt into the palms of 
their hands,, even for murder, Cain was branded only on the forehead, 
but, over the whole person of the debauchee or the inebriate, the signatures 
of infamy are written. How Nature brands him with stigma and 
opprobrium ! How she hangs labels over all of him to testify her disgust 
at his existence and to admonish others to beware of his example ! How 
she loosens all his joints, and sends tremors along his muscles, and bends 
forward his frame, as if to bring him upon all-fours, with kindred brutes, or 
to degrade him to the reptiles crawling ! How she disfigures his countenance 
as if intent upon obliterating all traces of her own image, so that she may 
swear she never made him ! How she pours rheum over his eyes, sends 
foul spirits to inhabit his breath, and shrieks, as with a trumpet, from every 
pore of his body, "Behold a beast!" 



w 



THE VAGABONDS. 

E are two travellers, Roger and I. 

Roger's my dog: — come here you scamp! 
Jump for the gentlemen — mind your eye ! 

Over the table — look out for the lamp! — 



146 THE MORAL LIFE. 

The rogue is growing a little old ; 

Five years we've tramped through wind and weather, 
And slept out-doors when nights were cold, 

And ate and drank — and starved together. 

We've learned what comfort is, I tell you ! 

A bed on the floor, a bit of rosin, 
A fire to thaw our thumbs, (poor fellow ! 

The paw he holds up there's been frozen,) 
Plenty of catgut for my fiddle, 

(This out-door business is bad for strings,) 
Then a few nice buckwheats hot from the griddle, 

And Roger and I set up for kings ! 

No, thank ye, sir — I never drink ; 

Roger and I are exceedingly moral — 
Aren't we, Roger? — see him wink! — 

Well, something hot, then — we won't quarrel. 
He's thirsty, too — see him nod his head? 

What a pity, sir, that dogs can't talk! 
He understands every word that's said — 

And he knows good milk from water-and-chalk. 

The truth is, sir, now I reflect, 

I've been so sadly given to grog, 
I wonder I've not lost the respect 

(Here's to you, sir! ) even of my dog. 
But he sticks by, through thick and thin ; 

And this old coat, with its empty pockets, 
And rags that smell of tobacco and gin, 

He'll follow while he has eyes in his sockets. 

There isn't another creature living 

Would do it, and prove, through every disaster, 
So fond, so faithful, and so forgiving, 

To such a miserable, thankless master ! 
No, sir! — see him wag his tail and grin! 

By George! it makes my old eyes water! 
That is, there's something in this gin 

That chokes a fellow. But no matter! 



THE MORAL LIFE. 147 

We'll have some music, if you're willing, 

And Roger (hem! what a plague a cough is, sir!) 
Shall march a little. — Start, you villain ! 

Stand straight ! 'Bout face ! Salute your officer ! 
Put up that paw ! Dress ! Take your rifle ! 

(Some dogs have arms, you see ! ) Now hold your 
Cap while the gentlemen give a trifle, 

To aid a poor old patriot soldier ! 

March ! Halt ! Now show how the rebel shakes, 

When he stands up to hear his sentence. 
Now tell us how many drams it takes 

To honor a jolly new acquaintance. 
Five yelps — that's five ; he's mighty knowing ! 

The night's before us, fill the glasses ! — 
Quick, sir! I'm ill — my brain is going! — 

Some brandy! — thank you! — there ! — it passes! 

Why not reform? That's easily said ; 

But I've gone through such wretched treatment, 
Sometimes forgetting the taste of bread, 

And scarce remembering what meat meant, 
That my poor stomach's past reform ; 

And there are times when, mad with thinking, 
I'd sell out Heaven for something warm 

To prop a horrible inward sinking. 

Is there a way to forget to think? 

At your age, sir, home, fortune, friends, 
A. dear girl's love — but I took to drink ; — 

The same old story; you know how it ends 
If you could have seen these classic features — 

You needn't laugh, sir; they were not then 
Such a burning libel on God's creatures : 

I was one of your handsome men ! 

If you had seen her, so fair and young, 

Whose head was happy on this breast ! 
. If you could have heard the songs I sung 

When the wine went round, you wouldn't have guessed 



f48 THE MORAL LIFE, 



That ever I, sir, should be straying 

From door to door, with fiddle and dog, 
Ragged and penniless, and playing 

To you to-night for a glass of grog ! 

She's married since — a parson's wife : 

'Twas better for her that we should part — 
Better the soberest, prosiest life 

Than a blasted home and a broken heart. 
I have seen her? Once: I was weak and spent 

On the dusty road, a carriage stopped : 
But little she dreamed, as on she went, 

Who kissed the coin that her fingers dropped ! 

You've set me talking, sir; I'm sorry! 

It makes me wild to think of the change ! 
What do you care for a beggar's story ? 

Is it amusing? you find it strange? 
I had a mother so proud of me ! 

'Twas well she died before — — Do you know 
If the happy spirit in Heaven can see 

The ruin and wretchedness here below ? 

Another glass, and strong, to deaden 

This pain ; then Roger and I will start. 
I wonder, has he such a lumpish, leaden, 

Aching thing, in place of a heart ? 
He is sad sometimes, and would weep if he could, 

No doubt, remembering things that were — 
A virtuous kennel, with plenty of food, 

And himself a sober, respectable cur. 

I'm better now; that glass was warming — 

You rascal ! limber your lazy feet ! 
We must be fiddling and performing 

For supper and bed, or starve in the street. 
Not a very gay life to lead, you think? 

But soon we shall go where lodgings are free, 
And the sleepers need neither victuals nor drink ; — - 

The sooner, the better for Roger and me ! 

— J. T. Trotvbridge. 



THE MORAL LIFE. 149 

HOW TO BREAK THE CHAIN. 

AM AN once said to me : " I was a pretty hard case ; my wife used to be 
afraid of me, and my children used to run away from me when I came 
in the house ; it was but a word, and a blow, and then a kick. When I put 
my name on a temperance pledge the thought came across my mind, I 
wonder what my wife will say to this ? Then I thought if I went in and 
told her all of a hurry it might make her faint. Another time I would have 
gone home and knocked her down and kicked her up again. Now, I was 
going home, thinking how I could break it to my wife and not hurt her ! 
So I made up my mind I would break it to her easy. I got to the door; I 
saw her leaning over the embers of the fire ; she didn't look up ; I suppose 
she expected a blow or a curse as usual, and I said, ' Mary ! ' She didn't 
turn; I said, 'Mary!' 'Well, Dick, what is it?' I said, 'Mary!' 'Well, what 
is it?' 'Can not you guess, Mary?' 

AND SHE LOOKED AROUND AT ME, — HER FACE 

was so white! 'I say, Mary!' 'Well?' 'I have been to the meeting, and 
have put my name down on the pledge, and taken my oa'th I never will take 
another drop.' She was on her feet in a minute. She didn't faint away, 
poor soul ; and as I held her I didn't know but she was dead, and I began 
to cry. She opened her eyes, and got her arms around my neck, and pulled 
me down on my knees, — the first time I remember ever going on my knees 
since I was a boy,— and said, 'O God, bless my poor husband!' and I said, 
'Amen.' And she said, 'Help him to keep that pledge,' and I said, 'Amen;' 
and she kept on praying, and I kept on hallooing, and you never heard a 
Methodist halloo like me, until I could not speak a word. It was the first 
time we ever knelt together, but it was not the last." 

HARD TO REFORM WITHOUT BECOMING A CHRISTIAN. 

A great many men have said to me : " I can reform without becoming 
a Christian." I am not one of those who will say to you that you can not 
reform unless you become a Christian, but I say this, within my experience, 
that nine out of ten who try it fail. A gentleman that I know married into 
an excellent family and got so abased that he could drink a quart of brandy 
a day; how he stood it no one knows; a man of strong constitution, 
splendid physique, but he drank his quart a day. He had a lovely wife and 
three boys, and one day he was in the house and he said to his wife : 
" Come, my dear, and sit on my knee." She came and sat, and then she 
said : " If my husband didn't drink I would be the happiest woman in 
Canada." "Well," he said, " my dear, I married you to make you happy, 



150 THE MORAL LIFE. 



and I ought to do everything to make you happy ; and if that will make you 
happy I will never drink another drop as long as I live." That was seven 
years ago, and he has never tasted a drop from that day to this. He had 
cut it off just as clean as you would cut off a piece of cheese. That man 
had a mighty will, but I want tell you something else. Walking with him 
up Young Street one day, he said : " You see that red saloon. I have gone 
two blocks out of my way many a time to keep out of the way of that. 
When I come in sight of it, and begin to feel queer, I turn right down 
Front Street; but since I have got the grace of God in my heart 
I can go right by that place, and if I find the slightest inclination to 
enter, I can ejaculate the prayer, 'God help me,' and I go right along." 
The first was a risk ; the second was absolute security and safety. 

YOUR HOPE IS IN JESUS. 

I say to reformed men, your hope is in Jesus to keep yourselves 
unspotted. Touch not, taste not, handle not, meddle not with it. Men may 
say to me, " Have you this appetite?" I don't know. My daily prayer is, 
" God help me to avoid the test." Although it is thirty-five years since I 
signed the pledge, I will not put to my lips intoxicating wine at the 
communion table. I have not and I never will. I have known cases of 
fearful falling from the first swallow, because drunkenness is a disease. A 
good Christian man said to me : " Three weeks ago I had the most awful 
struggle against my appetite;" and a gentleman said to me, the other night, 
" God bless you, I am fighting an awful hard battle." I said : " Do you feel 
secure?" "Secure in Jesus." Oh, I tell you, ladies and gentlemen, that is 
the strength of the movement to-day. — John B. Gough. 



D 



THE GAMBLER'S WIFE. 

ARK is the night. How dark! No light ! no fire ! 
Cold, on the hearth, the last faint sparks expire ! 
Shivering, she watches by the cradle side, 
For him who pledged her love last year a bride ! 

Hark ! 'Tis his footstep ! No ! — 'Tis past ! — 'tis gone ' 
Tick! — Tick! — How wearily the time crawls on ! 
Why should he leave me thus? — He once was kind : 
And I believed 'twould last! — How mad! — How blind ! 



THE MORAL LIFE. 151 



Rest thee, babe! — Rest on! — 'Tis hunger's cry! 

Sleep! — For there is no food! — The font is dry! ■ 

Famine and cold their wearying' work have done. 

My heart must break! — And thou!— The clock strikes one! 

Hush ! 'tis the dice-box ! Yes ! he's there ! he's there ! 
For this — for this he leaves me to despair ! 
Leaves love ! leaves truth ! his wife ! his child ! for what ? 
The wanton's smile — the villain — -and the sot ! 

Yet I'll not curse him. No ! 'tis all in vain ! 

'Tis long to wait, but sure he'll come again ! 

And I could starve and bless him but for you, 

My child ! — his child ! Oh, fiend ! — The clock strikes two . 

Hark ! How the sign-board creaks ! The blasts howl by. 
Moan! moan! A dirge swells through the cloudy sky! 
Ha! 'tis his knock! — he comes! — he comes once more ! 
'Tis but the lattice flaps ! Thy hope is o'er. 

Can he desert me thus ! He knows I stay 
Night after night, in loneliness to pray 
For his return — and yet he sees no tear, 
No ! no ! It can not be ! He will be here ! 

Nestle more closely, dear -one, to my heart ! 

Thou'rt cold ! Thou'rt freezing! But we will not part ! 

Husband! I die! — -Father! it is not he! 

Oh, God ! protect my child ! — -The clock strikes three. 

They're gone, they're gone ! the glimmering spark hath fled ! 

The wife and child are numbered with the dead. 

On the cold earth, outstretched in solemn rest, 

The babe lay frozen on its mother's breast ; 

The gambler came at last — but all was o'er — 

Dread silence reign'd around— The clock struck four. 

— Dr. Coates. 



Nothing is truly infamous but what is wicked ; and therefore shame 
can never disturb an innocent and virtuous mind. 
10 



52 THE MORAL LIFE. 



GAMBLERS AND GAMBLING. 

GAMBLING is an ancient vice. All the authentic histories, all the 
reliable traditions, are in proof of its universality, and that, from 
time immemorial, it has been co-extensive with the abode and business of 
man. The Assyrians, the Babylonians, the Egyptians gambled. Under 
the Empire and under the Republic, the evil existed to such an extent 
among the Romans that legislation was a necessity. In the best days of 
the Greeks, in the Golden Age of Pericles, the evil prevailed throughout 
the Grecian Confederation. The present is like the past. From the 
emperor to the coolie, the Chinese are a nation of gamblers. This social 
vice is prevalent in Japan and India and Persia. 

IT IS RIFE AMONG THE TURKS. 

When sailing up the Persian Gulf, I saw a company of Moham- 
medan pilgrims en route to some sacred shrine, and they divided the 
twenty-four hours of the day between prayers and games. When they did 
not pray, they gambled. Spain, Italy, Austria, Germany, and France have 
been compelled to bring the power of law against this ruinous evil. Prior 
to the unification of Germany, not a few of the petty states were supported 
from revenues derived from licensed gambling establishments. England is 
no exception. According to Veckman: "The first lottery was proposed in 
the years 1567 and 1568, and held at the west door of St. Paul's Cathedral, 
was drawn day and night from the nth of January, 1569, to the 6th of May, 
the same year. It contained 400,000 tickets, at ten shillings each. The 
prizes consisted partly of money and partly of silver plate and other 
articles. The net profit was to be employed in improving the English 
harbors, in 1 746 a loan of 

£3,000,000 WAS RAISED IN FOUR PER CENT. ANNUITIES, 

and a lottery of 50,000 tickets at £\o each, and in 1747, £1,000,000 was 
raised by the sale of 100,000 tickets, the prizes in which were funded in 
perpetual annuities at the rate of four per cent, per annum. During the 
same century the Government constantly availed itself of this means to 
raise money for various public works; of which the British Museum and 
Westminster Bridge are well-known examples." But by an act, in 1823, 
lotteries were rendered illegal. Nor are Americans strangers to this vice. 
In some of the States a revenue is derived from licensed gambling saloons. 
The Territory of Montana is a sad example. In Kentucky and Louisiana 
lotteries are under the protection of the Commonwealth; and now the 
Postmaster-General of the United States is forbidding the circulation of 
the printed advertisements of these lotteries through the mails. This 



THE MORAL LIFE. 153 

social vice appeals to all classes for correction. It appeals to every 
employer, it appeals to every parent, it appeals with unwonted force to the 
wives and mothers of the Republic. 

What is gambling', and what are its evils ? 

Gambling is an abuse of innocent pastime. Some one has said that 
vice is the excess of virtue. That which is innocent in itself -becomes a 
crime by excessive use. 

All nations have games of recreation and pleasure. A nation 
without games is a nation of idiots. The people should have their 
pastimes. But it is a sad commentary upon the depravity of humanity 
that innocent pleasures are degraded into destroying evils. 

"GAMES AND GAMING." 

It may not be easy to define the sin of gambling. The word belongs 
to that family of words " games and gaming," and in its origin means sport, 
fun. For want of a better term we call it a social vice, because of the evils 
which flow therefrom to society. 

Gambling is the staking of property to win or to lose on mere hazard. 
It is not gain for gain. It ignores the law of equivalents. It is something 
for nothing. 

All industry, all trade, all legitimate business, is based on the law of 
something for something. What does the winner give in exchange for the 
money he takes ? Nothing. A man has a right to give his property, and 
he receives a reward for the same in the consciousness of a kindness done ; 
"but in gambling he does not intend to give his money. The winner does 
not intend to give an equivalent in return. Gambling is robbery by 
mutual consent. 

THE ENEMY OF HEALTHFUL AND MANLY LABOR. 

Gambling is the enemy of healthful and manly labor. It means 
money without work. Its chief maxim is : " Take care of yourself ; sacrifice 
others." Do you say the gambler works? So does the bank robber. How 
immense the skill, the patience, and the effort of him who robs a bank ! 
But it is a criminal work. It is an effort condemned by public opinion and 
just laws. Do you say the gambler displays skill? Yes, but his is not the 
honorable skill of the pilot, who guides his ship in a dangerous sea ; nor of 
the lawyer, who applies constitutional and statutory law in the intricacies 
of a case involving life or property or reputation ; it is not the skill of the 
artist in the production of works of art to refine public taste and adorn the 
face of society; it is not the skill of the merchant in the wise management 
■of trade ; it is not the skill of the banker in the application of the 



154 THE MORAL LIFE. 

principles of finance; it is not the skill of the statesman who applies 
political economy to the welfare of the people ; it is not the skill of the 
physician who studies to cure disease and to put a heart beneath the ribs 
of death ; but it is the skill that sets at defiance all the laws of honorable 
labor. It is the development of a cunning to lie and cheat and rob. 

I do not say that gambling is atheism, but I declare that it is 
contrary to the established laws of Nature. Chance is the god of the 
gambler. He constantly appeals to the very uncertain and variable law of 
chance. Some mathematicians have sought to ascertain and formulate the 
law of chance, and they assert : " If you throw a dice, it is thirty to one 
against your turning up a particular number, and one hundred to one 
against your repeating the same throw three times running, and so on in 
an augmenting ratio." You have no right to expose your property on such 
a tremendous margin of thirty to one and of one hundred to one. 

CERTAINTY OF AGRICULTURE AND COMMERCE. 

There is certainty in agriculture, there is certainty in commerce, 
there is certainty in manufacture. God has ordained laws of honest 
industry, but these do not operate on such immense margins. Do you tell 
me there is hazard in everything? True, but not to the same extent as in 
this. Men may be deceived in bargains which they make, in their invest- 
ments, in their transactions, but in all these there is a reasonable certainty 
of return. 

The principles of gambling are sometimes acted upon where there is 
neither wager nor play. Some men gamble with capital instead of cards, 
and take the chances. They throw their immense financial strength in 
favor of depression or inflation, and hope thereby to win. 

RECKLESS SPECULATION. 

Some gamble with the capital of others in reckless speculation. 
Some gamble with false capital, which is a lie and a cheat. It is a mere 
fancy; it has no existence or representation. It is a name without fame. 
Some gamble with ballots instead of dice, and the action of legislatures 
is influenced thereby. It is a statement made before one of our 
courts that one railroad company, in the State of New York, paid $60,000 
one year, and $205,000 another year, to obtain legislation; and it was 
obtained. It is a duty of legislators to enact laws for the benefit of the 
people without bribes or money corruption. But these large sums were 
paid to rob the Commonwealth. Some men are too saintly to touch a card 
or throw a dice, yet they will risk the property of widows and orphans in 
an amount or kind of business for which their own resources are unequal. 



THE MORAL LIFE. 155 

I would rather take the chances of a professional gambler at the bar of God 
than the chances of one of these saintly scoundrels who gamble with the 
money of widows and orphans. Public prejudice has segregated one 
branch of business in New York and pronounced its withering condemna- 
tion on it. One street is held up as the resort of gamblers and robbers. I 
am not the defender of Wall Street, but I would as soon take my chances 
for Heaven from Wall Street as from Broadway, from a stock broker's 
office as from some banking houses, or the headquarters of certain railway 
magnates. There are members of the Stock Exchange as honorable and 
honest as are any members of the venerable Chamber of Commerce of our 
great metropolis. It is quite true there are two classes of persons who 
frequent Wall Street who are a disgrace to honorable men : those who seek 
to depress certain stocks or other securities by destroying confidence in 
particular individuals, or in the value of the properties themselves, and 
then take advantage of such depression 

TO ACCUMULATE A SUDDEN FORTUNE ; 

and those who seek the same end by the unnatural and unhealthy inflation 
of stocks and other properties, and thus come into possession of ill-gotten 
gains. Such men are not only gamblers, but they should be classed as 
criminals before the law. A citizen has the right to purchase stock out 
and out, but it is an appeal to chance, it is downright gambling, to put up 
a margin and then to seek either, by personal means, the depression or 
inflation of such stock, or to take the chances on their rise or fall. 

This is gambling ; it is an appeal to chance ; it is one hundred to 
one. Many a man has put up his only thousand dollars as a margin and 
lost, and then whined in the ear of Providence over the misfortune. 

INJURIOUS EXCITEMENT. 

Gambling is an injurious excitement without compensation and 
consolation. The gambler has hope, but it is not an anchor. It is an 
unmanageable sail that bears him upon the rocks. It is an excitement 
that consumes but never recreates. It doth not promote health or happi- 
ness. The loser has no compensation. When the merchant loses, from 
circumstances beyond his control, he has the consolation of .knowing that 
he did his duty. He has regret, but no remorse. He has the sympathy of 
others, but needs not their pity. God gives him consolation, but he needs 
no pardon. The young man who lost $150,000 at cards could not say: "I 
did my best and Providence sent me adversity." He has remorse, not 
regret. He may claim our pity, not our sympathy. When all that the 
merchant had is lost, his character is safe. When the gambler has lost his 
all, that includes his character. 



156 THE MORAL LIFE. 



What a strange fascination there is in gambling! What a spell it 
throws over the imagination ! No serpent ever charmed a bird with greater 
power, no fowler ever set a snare from which it was so difficult to escape. 
Why ? Gambling is an appeal to the pride of skill, to the love of superiority, 
to the heroism of our nature, and, above all, to gain without work. We all 
have seen some man under this strange fascination. It is mightier than 
other forms of delusion. We have seen an honored father and husband 
under the fascination of a strange woman — beautiful, artful, enticing. He 
resolves not to yield; his conscience is against yielding; he recalls his 
happy home, the wife of his bosom and the children of his loins, but the 
strange woman leads him astray. We have seen some great, imperial spirit 
under the charm of intoxication. Resolutions are made, vows are recorded, 
efforts- are put forth ; 

IN A MOMENT OF HOLY REVENGE THE EVIL IS CONSIGNED TO 

the lowest hell, but the man has been charmed. We have seen the novel 
reader in a revery, wherein the imagination has been peopled with forms of 
fancy, in which the actualities of life are disregarded and nature is perverted. 
With these is the fascination of gambling. All the better nature of the 
man is at times aroused against it. He resolves and resolves again; he 
promises wife and children, the angels and his God, but he is under the 
influence of an entrancing power. Who does not recall with pity that 
young and brilliant lawyer, who had led to the bridal altar one of the 
fairest daughters of the land, whose happiness lay in the embrace of a 
future like an ocean of pearls and diamonds, but who became addicted to 
this entrancing vice? The habit had fastened upon him, its hooks of steel 
had entered his very soul. On a certain night he lost heavily. He then 
staked his splendid mansion, the patrimony from an honored father. The 
home was lost. In despair he left that hell of hells ; the night air touched 
his temples, but could not chill to the death this charm of charmers. He 
said there was one hope left, he would return. 

THE GAMBLERS LOOKED 

amazed at his reappearance. As his last stake — all that he had left in the 
world on which he hoped to recover all that he had lost — he staked his 
coach and horses. The game was played, again he lost. Leading the 
winner to the street, he said to the coachman, "Here is your master," and 
then, in a despair that knew no relief; a homeless, indigent wretch, he 
walked the streets of the silent, sleeping city, he looked at the stars of his 
childhood, but they brought him no relief; he lingered beneath the light of 
the street-lamp, which revealed only a countenance of despair; he pressed 
his temples and cursed the day of his birth. 



THE MORAL LIFE. 157 



Gambling leads to the most heartless associations. It is proper to note 
the distinction between the professional and the non-professional gamblers.- 
The latter are persons engaged in legitimate business, who gamble for 
pastime or money, or both. All that I have said thus far against this vice 
I apply to the practice of these non-professionals. It is an abuse of 
innocent pastime, it tempts from lawful labor, it is homage paid to the 
shrine of chance, it ends in remorse. 

Non-professional gambling is the feeder of the professional. Every 
private house wherein persons play for money is a recruiting office of the 
gambling hell to fill the ranks of the professional gamblers. 

There is a direct path that leads from the one to the other. Ask that 
young man who lost so heavily at Saratoga last summer where he acquired 
the propensity for gambling, and he will tell you : " In the private residence 

of ," wherein wealth abounds and beauty smiles. Why not have your 

games for recreation without the hazard of a dollar? 

THE GAMBLER'S DRAMA. 

Why should parents complain when their sons are ruined ? Were I 
a dramatist I would write a drama of five acts. First : A young man in a 
private house, at cards, where beauty smiles and wealth allures. Second : 
In a hotel, where gentlemen meet, where the game is played for the 
refreshments of the hour, and where conscience is quieted by the soothing 
assurance that it is only pastime. Third : A gambling hell, where the 
professionals do congregate, where the attention to the game is intense, 
where self-consciousness reigns supreme, where fortunes are won and lost. 
Fourth : A den of thieves, from which decency and honor have departed, 
where dishonesty holds high carnival, where depredations on the property 
of honest citizens are, organized, where murder is planned. Fifth: A 
gallows, on which hangs the form of that once young and splendid man. 
It is the last game ; he loses all. 

WHERE GAMBLERS CONGREGATE. 

Let us now look at the professional gamblers. Let us go in fancy to 
the place where they do congregate. We do not expect to find angels 
there, except fallen ones ; nor saints, except those who have outlived their 
usefulness , nor church members, except hypocrites. What is the average 
morality of the gambling fraternity? Who are the men found in those 
resorts? There is the cynic, who sneers at virtue; the polished debauchee, 
a modern Chesterfield; the "swell," who is attractive by his flashing 
manners ; and the selfish man, bereft of all sensibility, who will take the 
last dollar, and then turn the loser out into the cold world. 



THE MORAL LIFE. 



Gambling- is not an isolated vice; it is attended with a whole retinue 
of evils. The sparkling wine-cup passes from lip to lip ; inebriety is certain 
to follow ; intoxication is a necessary inspiration ; the " strange woman " is. 
companion to gamblers — she whose steps take hold on death and hell 
There is a direct road from the gambling hell to the penitentiary. Nearly 
all the embezzlements of which banking clerks have been convicted may be 
traced to gambling. This social vice disqualifies for all the duties of life. 
It ruins the mechanic, the lawyer, the physician, the statesman. It is the 
desolation of home itself. 

And what are the remedies ? Let the Pulpit lift up its voice of 
warning. Let clergymen appreciate the terrible evil in all its bearings. 
Let them press home upon the conscience of the people the great moralities 
of religion. Let the Press keep the public informed of the dangers to which 
society is exposed, and especially of the dereliction of the police, whose 
business it is to suppress these places which entice the young men of our 
city. And let parents, by precept and example, from childhood to youth- 
hood, from youthhood to manhood, throw around their sons and daughters 
those gracious influences which will make home the supreme charm of 
human life.—/. H. Newman. 



EVIL BOOKS AND EVIL PICTURES. 

BUT I warn you against evil books and evil pictures. There is in every 
town an undercurrent which glides beneath our feet, unsuspected by 
the pure; out of which, notwithstanding, our sons scoop many a goblet. 
Books are hidden in trunks, concealed in dark holes ; pictures are stored in 
sly portfolios or trafficked from hand to hand; and in the handiwork of 
depraved art is seen other forms which ought to make a harlot blush. I 
should think a man would loathe himself, and wake up from owning such 
things as from a horrible nightmare. Those who circulate them are 
the incendiaries of morality; those who make them equal to the worst 
public criminals. A pure heart would shrink from these abominable things 
as from death. France, where religion long ago went out smothered in 
licentiousness, has flooded the world with a species of literature redolent of 
depravity. Upon the plea of exhibiting nature and man; novels are 
scooped out of the very lava of corrupt passions. They are true to nature, 
but to nature as it exists in knaves and courtesans. Under a plea of 
humanity, we have shown to us troops of harlots, to prove that they are 
not as bad as purists think; gangs of desperadoes to show that there is 
nothing in crime inconsistent with the noblest feelings. We have in 



THE MORAL LIFE. 159 



French and English, novels of the infernal school humane murderers, 
lascivious saints, holy infidels, honest robbers. These artists never seem 
lost, except when straining after a conception of religion. Their devotion 
is such as might be expected from thieves in the purlieus of a thrice- 
deformed vice. Exhausted libertines are our professors of morality. They 
scrape the very sediment and muck of society to mould their creatures; and 
their volumes are monster galleries in which the inhabitants of old Sodom 
would have felt at home as connoisseurs and critics over loathsome women 
and utterly vile men, huddled together in motley groups, and over all their 
monstrous deeds — 

THEIR LIES, THEIR PLOTS, THEIR CRIMES, THEIR DREADFUL 

pleasures, their glorying conversation — is thrown the checkered light of a 
hot imagination, until they glow with an infernal lustre. Novels of the 
French school and of English imitators are the common sewers of society, 
into which drain the concentrated filth of the worst passions, of the worst 
creatures, of the worst cities. Such novels come to us impudently 
pretending to be reformers of morals and liberalizers of religion, they 
propose to instruct our laws, and teach a discreet humanity to justice. 

The Ten Plagues have visited our literature; water is turned to 
blood ; frogs and lice creep and hop over our most familiar things, — the 
couch, the cradle, and the bed trough ; locusts, murrain, and fire are smiting 
every green thing. 

I AM ASHAMED AND OUTRAGED WHEN I THINK THAT WRETCHES 

could be found to open these foreign seals and let out their plagues upon 
us ; that any Satanic pilgrim should voyage to France to dip from the dead 
sea of her abomination a baptism for our sons. It were a mercy, to this, to 
import serpents from Africa and pour them out on our prairies ; lions from 
Asia and free them in our forests; lizards and scorpions and black 
tarantulas from the Indies and put them in our gardens. Men could slay 
these, but these offspring reptiles of the French mind, who can kill these ? 
You might as well draw sword on a plague, or charge a malaria with the 
bayonet. This black-lettered literature circulates in this town, floats in our 
stores, nestles in our shops, is fingered and read nightly, and hatches in the 
young mind broods of salacious thoughts. While the parent strives to 
infuse Christian purity into his child's heart, he is anticipated by most 
accursed messengers of evil, and the heart hisses already like a nest of 
young and nimble vipers. — BcecJier. 



i6o THE MORAL LIFE. 



HABIT. 

THE story runs that, as Abdallah lingered over his morning repast, a 
little fly alighted on his goblet, took a sip, and was gone. It came 
again and again, increased its charms; became bolder and bolder; grew in 
size till it presented the likeness of a man ; consumed Abdallah's meat, so 
that he became thin and weak, while his guest grew great and strong. 
Then contention arose between them, and the youth smote the demon, so 
that he departed; and the youth rejoiced at his deliverance. But the demon 
came soon again, charmingly arrayed, and was restored to favor. On the 
morrow, the youth came not to his teacher. The mufti, searching, found 
him in his chamber, lying dead upon his divan. His visage was black and 
swollen, and on his throat was the pressure of a finger, broader than the 
palm of a mighty man. His treasures were gone. In the garden, the mufti 
discovered the footprints of a giant, one of which measured six cubits. 
Such is the Oriental portrayal of the growth and power of habit. 



THE SLAVERY OF SIN. 

THE idea of possession of the devil is by no means foreign to modern 
thought. By a reference to the Dictionary, one will find that the 
words which express the idea of sin imply also, in many cases, a slavery to 
a tyrannical power of evil. 

Take that word habit. It comes from the word meaning to have. 
Habit may be regarded as that which has a man, which holds him. A 
lady's riding-habit is the robe which envelops and holds her, and when a 
man has contracted a habit, he is encompassed and bound by it. A habit is 
different from a custom. The latter consists of something which a man 
does voluntarily ; a habit involves what he can not help doing. He who 
has formed a bad habit is in bondage to the power of evil. And many a 
man has contracted so many bad habits, is ruled by so many evil influences, 
that he might almost say, "My name is Legion!" 

THE MEANING OF ANGER. 

The word anger comes from one which means, to choke ; as if the 
enraged man with distorted visage was in the power of some fiend who had 
fastened a terrible grasp on his neck, and was strangling him. The angry 
man is overpowered by a malignant demon. 

To say that a man is passionate, means that he is not strong, but weak. 
Passion means suffering, as the older writers speak of the "passion" of 
Christ, and the old grammars said that a verb was a word denoting "action, 



THE MORAL LIFE. 161 



passion or being." When a man is in a passion he is moved by an impulse 
beyond his control, as a ship over which control is lost may be helplessly 
driven by the winds and currents upon the rocks. A passionate man is one 
who no longer is master of himself, but has fallen under the power of 
demons who are driving him onward to his ruin. 

The passionate man is sometimes said to be mad ; that is, crazy. As 
the Gadarene demoniac was certainly bereft of his reason, so when a man 
falls under the power of the spirit of sinful fury, he is properly said to be 
demented, bereft of reason, no longer exercising wise thought. 

The passionate man is sometimes said to be a man of temper. But 
he really lacks temper. The temper of the steel is that which enables it to 
cut through the toughest material without losing its edge. So the good- 
tempered or well-tempered man is 

THE MAN WHO CAN FACE UNPLEASANT 

conditions, who can deal with irritating persons, who can" contemplate 
provoking actions without losing the calm edge of his mind. The temperate 
man is the man of well-tempered spirit, the man of calmness and self-control, 
who is firm against temptations, and retains the mastery of himself. The 
weak man loses his temper, and as a blade made of hoop-iron has its edge 
turned by the first tough object it has to cut, so the man who loses his 
temper, the intemperate man, is helplessly the sport of the powers of evil. 
In contemplation of sins, David prayed, " Let them not have dominion 
over me," and the Saviour said, " He that committeth sin is the servant of 
sin." Sin involves weakness, and the sinful man is properly represented as 
possessed by the power of evil. The idea of demoniacal possession is not 
found in the New Testament alone, but pervades the language of every-day 
life. To be rescued from the dominion of evil we must seek the help of 
Him who is stronger than the strong man — the mighty Redeemer, who can 
bind the power of evil and set us free from our slavery to sin. — Christian 
Inquirer. 

TOBACCO. 

IN 1499, Columbus, lying off Cuba, sent two men ashore, and they came 
back with the smoker's pedigree, to wit: "The naked savages twist 
leaves together, light one end at the fire, and smoke like devils." In the 
fifteenth century this bewitching weed crossed the Atlantic Ocean and 
captured Spain. Afterward it captured Portugal, then France. Walter 
Raleigh took it to London, and it captured Great Britain. It is enshrined 
in millions of hearts as the dearest thing on earth. 



162 THE MORAL LIFE. 

Tobacco is one of the chief causes of drunkenness. It creates an 
unnatural thirst. " Show me a drunkard who does not use tobacco," said 
Horace Greely, "and I will show you a white blackbird." 

If smoking is not a nuisance, how do you interpret the conspicuous 
posters on every hand, "No smoking here?" and what means "The 
Smoking Car ? " "The fact is," says Thackeray, " the cigar is a rival to the 
ladies." 

Nicotine, one of the subtlest of poisons, determines the strength of 
tobacco. Brodie, Queen Victoria's physician, made several experiments 
with nicotine, applying it to the tongues of a mouse, a squirrel and a dog. 
Death was produced in every instance. Put one drop on the tongue of a 
cat, and, in spite of its "nine lives," 

IT WILL INSTANTLY WRITHE IN CONVULSIONS 

and die. Hold white paper over the smoke of a cigar, scrape the condensed 
smoke from the paper and put a small quantity on the tongue of a cat, and 
in a few minutes it will die of paralysis. A distinguished physician declared 
that he considered the use of tobacco the cause of seventy styles of diseases. 
Of all the causes of cancer in the mouth almost in every instance it was 
ascribed to tobacco. Medical journals report the poisoning of babes 
sleeping in a father's unventilated room which he thoughtlessly filled with 
tobacco smoke. Not a few physicians ascribe the invalidism of women to 
the poisoned atmosphere created by the smoking members of the household. 

JEFFERSON ON TOBACCO. 

Franklin said : " I never saw a well man, in the exercise of common 
sense who would say that tobacco did him good." Thomas Jefferson said 
in reference to the culture of tobacco : " It is a culture productive of infinite 
wretchedness." It is a great land-exhauster, a huge glutton, consuming 
all about it, like Homer's glutton of old cries, " More ! Give me more !" 
Horace Greely said: "It is a profane stench." Daniel Webster said: 
"If these men must smoke, let them take the horse-shed." Beecher writes : 
"There is probably no smoker, no tobacco' user in the world, who would 
advise a young man to commence this habit. Yet, against all advice, 
against nausea and disgust, against cleanliness, against every consideration 
of health and comfort, thousands every year bow the neck to this drug and 
consent to wear its repulsive yoke." 

An itinerary preacher, being refused entertainment by an old woman, 
quoted to her the passage : " Be not forgetful to entertain strangers, for 
thereby some have entertained angels unawares," when she promptly 



THE MORAL LIFE. 163 

answered: "You needn't say that. No angel would come down here with 
a big quid of tobacco in his mouth." 

O for a breath from the heights of Heaven that shall drive out 
this foul odor from the Church and cleanse every Christian of this filthy 
habit ! 



GENIUS NO EXCUSE FOR WRONG-DOING. 

THE wretchedness of the domestic life of Thomas Carlyle sprang, not 
from his genius, but from the qualities of " a self-absorbed, egotistical, 
bad-tempered man, who had ruined his constitution by his persistent 
breaking of every law of health." Goethe, stripped of the glamour which 
enthusiastic admirers of his great powers have thrown over him, is "a 
Sybarite, whose god was himself, and who did not hesitate to sacrifice, to 
his supposed artistic culture, manly honors and womanly happiness;" yet 
there are those who declare that he was but exercising the prerogative of 
all men of genius, " who learn in suffering" (generally the suffering of others) 
"what they teach in song." 

For their genius Robert Burns and Richard Brinsley Sheridan the 
world excuses them everything, declaring that 

" The light which led astray 
Was light from Heaven," 

an impudent and blasphemous falsehood ; as if any light which led astray 
could come from Heaven. 

But if it is a pitiful thing when a man of genius has to entrench 
himself behind his works, as being so much better than himself ; in a 
woman of genius it is even worse. " Can any writings of the two greatest 
female novelists of the age, French and English, and one, the English 
ivoman, full of the most noble qualities, atone for the lack of that crown of 
stainless matronhood, which should have adorned either brow, making the 
life a consecration of the books, not the books an apology for the life? 
* * * We can not exaggerate the danger it is to the young to teach 
them that genius is an excuse for error ; that an author's books are the 
condonation of his life ; that what is moral turpitude in a small man is in a 
great man only a venial error; nay, perhaps, that if he had been a better 
man, he would not have been so great a genius. Satan would probably be 
to such confounders of right and wrong, the most transcendent genius. 
But we, believing that genius comes direct from Him 'with whom is no 
darkness at all,' exact from it, not a lower, but a higher standard than that 
of ordinary men." 



[64 THE MORAL LIFE. 



H 



THE GRUMBLER. 

HIS YOUTH. 

IS cap was too thick, and his coat was too thin ; 
He couldn't be quiet; he hated a din; 
He hated to write, and he hated to read ; 
He was certainly very much injured, indeed ! 
He must study and toil over work he detested ; 
His parents were strict, and he never was rested ; 
He knew he was wretched as wretched could be, 
There was no one so wretchedly wretched as he. 

HIS MANHOOD. 

His farm was too small, his taxes too big ; 
He was selfish and lazy, and cross as a pig ; 
His wife was too silly, his children too rude, 
And just because he was uncommonly good ! 
He hadn't got money enough to spare ; 
He had nothing at all fit to eat or to wear ; 
He knew he was wretched as wretched could be, 
There was no one so wretchedly wretched as he. 

HIS OLD AGE. 

He finds he has sorrows more deep than his fears ; 
He grumbles to think he has grumbled for years ; 
He grumbles to think he has grumbled away 
His home and his children, his wife's little day ; 
But alas! 'tis too late ! it is no use to say 
That his eyes are too dim and his hair is too gray; 
He knows he is wretched as wretched can be, 
There is no one so wretchedly wretched as he. 

— Western Plowman, 



YOUNG GIRLS AND THEIR TEMPTATIONS. 

I FEEL that my experience of the needs of working girls and the few hints 
how to meet them scarcely deserve the name of a paper, yet I am so 
deeply impressed with the importance of this new problem, which our 
grandmothers, and even our mothers, were not called upon to solve, that I 
am glad to do what I can. Any one who has looked upon the hundreds of 



THE MORAL LIFE. 165 

young working girls as they pour into the streets after six o'clock each 
evening, or has watched the girls come out of any of our factories — 
girls mostly from fourteen to twenty-five years of age — cannot fail to 
he impressed by the expression of their faces, so tired and strained and 
nervous; such thin arms; so many stooping shoulders. Follow these 
girls to their homes and what do you find? Home for many means crowded 
rooms, noise and dimness and poorly-cooked food. They need rest and quiet 
after the long day of work ; they need a change of thought, refreshment for 
the mind as well as for the body. Where and how are they to get it ? These 
girls need two things : recreation and cultivation. They need two friends : the 
Heavenly Friend and an earthly friend. 

THEY NATURALLY WANT A GOOD TIME, 

just as every other girl wants a good time. They are obliged to work day 
after day, sick or well, in storm or heat. Headaches and backaches count 
for nothing with them. Every morning, while most of us are yet in bed, 
these girls have begun their work for the day. A mistake often made by 
philanthropists is to think that they can do for people what can only be done 
by the people and which the people wish to do for themselves. 

Human nature is the same in all classes. The working people do 
not wish to have amusements given them ; they wish to purchase them. 
They are as independent and far more sensitive than others. There is not 
one rule for the people who work with their hands and another for those 
who work with their brains. I think we should be careful not to think, 
or talk of, working people in a mass any more than we think or judge of 
rich people in the same way. People are pretty much alike and what 
moves one moves all. 

WE ARE ALL TEMPTED IN MUCH THE SAME WAY; 

all can be led in much the same way. As to cultivation, of course, these 
girls have only the evenings, but much can be done in the evenings to 
change the whole course of their lives. The fountains of thought and life 
may be cleansed, the ideas, feelings, and motives be made pure. The 
evening classes under the auspices of the Century Club, Women's Christian 
Association and others can not be too highly praised. Reading, writing, 
arithmetic, bookkeeping, languages, sewing, dressmaking, cooking, etc., are 
taught at a low price and hundreds of girls are taking advantage of these 
opportunities. The two new choral societies recently formed will add 
greatly to the pleasure and happiness of our working girls. Anything to 
fill the mind with good, pure, elevating thoughts. Anything to give the 
thousand-and-one little stimulations and assistances to all that is good 



1 66 THE MORAL LIFE. 



and true within them and so make them turn with disgust from the vile 
society of the low music halls and places of that nature. 

Another excellent way of helping girls is by giving or lending them 
books. Not of necessity religious books, but good, pure, healthy novels, 
travels, biographies, etc. We all know the pleasure such books are to us 
and, believe me, they are far more to those whose lives are narrow and hard. 
Meeting a young girl at noon of a stormy day last winter, I said: "I 
thought of you this morning, you have such a long walk to your work and the 
storm was so severe at seven o'clock." "Oh, I did not mind it to-day," was 
the cheerful reply. "I was reading 'Ramona' (the book you lent me) last 
night and I was thinking of her walk through the mustard, fields, with 
those bright yellow blossoms high above her head, and somehow I forgot 
the cold and storm." Another girl said to me: " My work has not seemed 
so hard this week. I have been reading General Gordon's life and it is 
interesting." 

READ GOOD BOOKS. 

Our girls are sure to read something and why not read some- 
thing worth the eyesight and time? And they are so glad to get 
hold of interesting books. Of course, one has to proceed by degrees, 
but it is wonderful how fast the taste is formed for the best books. One 
girl who for years had read only dime novels and the lowest of story 
papers was led gradually from them to " Uncle Tom's Cabin," " Dr. 
Kane's Arctic Explorations," "Higginson's United States History" 
and Scott's novels, not forgetting " Kitto's Bible Illustrations." If 
we fill the mind with good thoughts they will crowd out the bad 
thoughts. It was into the empty house the evil spirits came. And these 
girls need religion — the assurance and hope of the love of their Lord and 
Saviour. Any one who has had much to do with working girls has been 
more or less deeply impressed with the loneliness of their position. Young 
girls in the higher walks of life are encircled by their families and have 
certain laws and rules of life impressed upon them. 

BUT MOST WORKING GIRLS KNOW 

nothing of all this. Being the breadwinners of the family— regarded as 
knowing more than most of the household, their opinion is sought on all 
questions, great and small, but no advice or counsel given. And they need 
both. Have you ever thought what a protection you could be to some 
young girl ? Bad men, whether rich or poor, avoid a girl who is known to 
have a friend in some good woman. Christian women, like their Lord, may 
be a hiding-place from the wind, a cover from the tempest. Oh ! it is a 



THE MORAL LIFE. 167 

a priceless gift to a young girl, be she rich or poor, the true friendship of a 
good woman. And it is very easy to win the affection of these girls. The 
same rules are observed in winning the love of the poor as the rich. The Lord 
Jesus had the best blood in His veins, yet with His right hand He touched 
the throne of God, for He was very God of very God, and with His left He 
stooped to raise the lowest on earth, for He was very man. Can we not 
follow His example in forming one link in the chain of humanity? In 
these days, when we hear so much of the feeling of division between 
employer and employe, can we not do all in our power to bridge the chasm 
between them, with one hand clasping the one and yet holding fast to the 
other. — Mrs. E. Perot. 



THE DUTY OF SELF-RESPECT. 

I SHOULD like to add one brief word about yourselves. I earnestly 
recommend you now, at the beginning of your life, to hang round your 
necks the jewelled amulet of self-respect. I was myself a very young man 
when I first met with a passage in one who was certainly the king, as 
Carlyle called him, of English literature — the glorious Puritan, John 
Milton. In his " Reasons of Church Government," you will find a memorable 
passage, and if I have done you no other service to-day I do you a great 
service in recommending that passage to your notice — a passage which I 
have always regarded as one of the very finest in the whole range of 
English literature. It is the passage on the inner reverence of a man for 
his own person. 

IT IS TOO LONG TO QUOTE TO YOU, BUT ONE OF THE SENTENCES IS 

this, he says : " He that holds himself in reverence and due esteem, both 
for the dignity of God's image, which he feels to be upon him, and the sign 
of His redemption, which he knows to be visably marked upon his forehead, 
esteems himself both a fit person to do the noblest and godliest deeds, and 
far better worth than to deject and defile by such a debasement and 
pollution as sin is, himself so highly ransomed and ennobled to a new 
friendship and. filial relation with God ; and he would dread more than the 
offence and reproach of others the reflection of his own severe and modest 
eye upon himself were it to see him doing, imaging what is base, were it 
even in the deepest secrecy." Depend upon it, self-respect is also the great 
secret of respect for others. " Every true and free-born spirit feels," as 
Milton again says, " that he is a born leader, and does not need either the 
gilt spur or the laying of the sword upon his shoulder to send him forth as 
a knight to rescue all that is innocent and oppressed." 



168 THE MORAL LIFE. 



THE HABIT OF BORROWING. 

IN all crusades against evil it is essential to find out, as nearly as possible, 
its primary source. No wrong-doing ever springs up at once, full 
fledged, in society. It is usually the gradual growth of certain habits 
which, in their earlier stages, were not regarded as of much importance — 
were not checked as actual sins, and which have thus crept insidiously into 
character and life, to develop at last into something which is fully 
recognized and censured as iniquity. 

There is no more striking example of this than the many forms of 
dishonesty, which excite righteous indignation afresh at every reappearance. 
We are naturally and justly shocked at the absconding clerk, the defaulting 
cashier, the faithless trustee; but we rarely pause to consider how these 
unhappy men have come to such a pass. 

IT HAS BEEN NO SUDDEN PLUNGE 

from innocence to guilt, but a gradual loosening of the principles — a slow 
deterioration of the character that has at length made such crimes possible. 
While we may not be able to trace, step by step, this downward process in 
any given case, it is safe to say that many, if not most, of these overt acts 
of dishonesty had their root in a loose habit of borrowing. Now, in itself, 
borrowing can not be called a culpable act. It is often a great convenience. 
We need a knife, a book, an umbrella — perhaps a small sum of money, 
which we can not easily obtain at once ; a friend is near and willing to lend ; 
we borrow it, use it and return it promptly. So far no wrong has been 
committed, no harm is done. Our friend has been glad to oblige us, and 
we are grateful. If the same limits and conditions were always preserved, 
no further evil could ensue. But often these limits are gradually extended ; 
we borrow more and more freely, and become less careful and prompt in 
the return. Sometimes we seriously infringe another's rights, without any 
intention of wrong-doing, simply by delay in returning borrowed property. 
The courtesy and kindness that lends freely is often sadly imposed upon, 
and compelled to withhold its favors. 

WHEN JUSTIFIABLE. 

From this habit to that of borrowing sums of money on slight 
occasions is not a difficult transition. Of course, there are times when 
necessity justifies a man in asking a temporary loan, although an ancient 
writer well says: "If thou hast of thine own, borrow not, since thou hast 
no need of it ; and if thou hast nothing, borrow not, because thou wilt not 
have any means to pay." But it is not usually those who are in the direst 



THE MORAL LIFE. 169 



poverty that are the most inveterate borrowers. It is much more frequently 
those who allow their desires for superfluities to outrun their ability to 
obtain them that resort to this dangerous and insidious practice. All such 
desires grow by what they feed on, and become more and more exacting, 
while the strict rectitude which can not brook the long continuance of a 
debt is gradually impaired. The victim of such a snare finds himself 
increasingly involved in its meshes ; it becomes ever easier to borrow, ever 
harder to repay. Of course, this can not continue forever. People, after 
repeated disappointments, decline to lend with so small a chance of return, 
and he then resorts to darker and more questionable methods of obtaining 
the means to gratify desires which have acquired such tyranny over him. 
Temptation comes, opportunities arise ; he thinks he can restore what he 
takes and avoid detection, and perhaps, before he realizes what he is doing, 
he has committed a crime. It is but the culmination of a long process, 
during which self-indulgence has been fastening its clutch upon him, and 
the principle of integrity has been loosening its hold. 



THE TRAINING OF YOUTH. 

IS it not then all-important, in the training of youth, that exactly the 
reverse process should be inaugurated and fostered ? Is there any 
education so essential as that which teaches the young to restrain their 
desires within the limits which their own honest industry can supply? 
Plato, in his laws, would not have any one allowed to draw water from his 
neighbor's well, until he had proved by hard digging that there was no 
water on his own ground. It might be well for all young persons to have 
a similar rule impressed upon them with regard to money. Even for a 
necessity as urgent as that of water, they should exhaust every effort to 
obtain it for themselves, by energy, industry, and frugality, before they 
apply to another, even for temporary help. 

BUT IF THEY ARE FORCED AT LENGTH 

to do so, let the burden of the debt weigh heavily until it is discharged. 
Let them feel that it is a sacrifice of personal independence, a giving up of 
freedom for a time, which they will hasten with all speed to regain. Our 
youth are brought up to value freedom as their greatest blessing. They 
learn it from the- lips of their teachers ; they breathe it in the atmosphere 
around them. Slavery would be to them a degradation to which even 
death would be preferable. Let them also be taught to dread and to shun 
the slavery of debt — to prize above riches or honor, or luxury or pleasure, 
that independence which owes no man anything but love and good-will 



i 7 o THE MORAL LIFE. 

Such a habit of thought and life would make the crimes of faithlessness 
and fraud impossible. Character thus purified and made wholesome at its 
source would continue to flow on in clear and unsullied streams for the 
moral health and vigor of society. 



THE SAVING HABIT. 

A LARGE proportion of the educated never save at all, and a still larger 
proportion do not begin the process until the last ten years of their 
working lives. There is not a charity in London whose secretaries can not 
tell frightful stories of the poverty in which educated professional men 
often pass old age, and of the utter destitution to which the death of the 
breadwinner reduces the most "respectable " and even prosperous families. 
The number of educated men in a hundred who begin to save early, may 
be counted on the fingers of one hand, and the number of bachelors who 
save at any time is scarcely larger. It seems to be part of the national 
temperament not to dread old age until it is close at hand, or rather, to 
keep on thinking that strength must last until it has disappeared. More 
than half of the savings of the saving class are made between forty-five 
and fifty-five, sometimes even later still ; while there are men in thousands 
who will confess that up to sixty they have never given the matter a 
thought. The fear of the future, which is the root of thrift, has never 
entered their minds. This being the state of affairs with the cultivated, it 
is unjust to blame the artisans, who are only following their example. ► 

The workmen, owing to their work, have more youth in their natures 
than the middle class, or rather — for the remark is not true of the women 
■ — their men keep their boyishness of spirit very much longer. They can 
smile, for example, at horseplay till they are sixty, and professionals can not 
after thirty-five. It is the essential quality of boys to be hopeful as to the 
future, to think little or nothing of its risks, and to deem saving needless 
while the reservoir of health and strength is still full to overflowing. The 
workmen retain much of this quality, which is in part recklessness, but in 
part also cheerfulness and courage ; and so, in a very singular degree, do 
the classes employed upon the land, whom we think the worst off. They, 
no doubt, look to the rates, but some of their carelessness, often rather fine 
to see, is also mental. The laborer who told his master: "I'm a braver 
man than you, for I dare spend my last shilling, and you darsen't," revealed 
a truth of temperament which is at the bottom of much of the workingman's 
unthrift. We hope yet that the latter will one day see what insurance 
might do for the whole community. — The Spectator. 



THE SOCIAL LIFE. 



WOMAN. 



T 



HE woman's cause is man's: they rise or sink 
Tog-ether, dwarfed or godlike, bond or free : 
For she that out of Lethe scales with man 
The shining steps of Nature, shares with man 
His nights, his days, moves with him to one goal, 
Stays all the fair young planet in her hands — 
If she be small, slight-natured, miserable, 
How shall men grow? 
For woman is not undeveloped man, 
But diverse : could we make her as the man, 
Sweet love were slain : his dearest bond is this, 
Not like to like, but like in difference : 
Yet in the long years liker must they grow ; 
The man be more of woman, she of man ; 
He gain in sweetness and in moral height, 
Nor lose the wrestling thews that throw the world; 
She mental breadth, nor fail in childward care, 
Nor lose the childlike in the larger mind ; 
Till at the last she set herself to man, 
Like perfect music unto noble words ; 
And so these twain, upon the skirts of Time, 
Sit side by side, full-summed in all their powers, 
Dispensing harvest, sowing the To-be, 
Self-reverent each and reverencing each, 
Distinct in individualities, 
But like each other even as those who love. 
Then comes the statelier Eden back to men : 
Then reign the world's great bridals, chaste and calm, 
Then springs the crowning race of human-kind. 
May these things be ! 

— Tennyson. 
173 



174 THE SOCIAL LIFE. 



WOMAN'S MISSION 

OOKING for a mission — for a work to do — that is the attitude of many 



I 



1-/ women to-day; of many pure, true, sweet souls. It is a thing much 
dealt with in the popular writings of the age ; notably, it may be said to 
form the subject of one of the most powerful, the most fascinating, and the 
most unsatisfactory books ever written. What is George Eliot's "Middle- 
march" but such a book? Fascinating, brilliant, powerful, and cruel and 
cold as the devil and death ! Was there ever a sweeter soul than poor 
Dorothea? Was there ever a more merciless sacrifice than that of her 
warm heart, noble mind, and active spirit — first, to a crabbed, cold-blooded 
pedant, who makes of her a mere mechanical implement of his dry, unprofit- 
able work ; and next, to an empty-headed Bohemian, not worthy to stoop 
down and unloose the latchet of her shoe ? 

AND WHAT DOES THIS IMMOLATION 

appear to suggest? This, if anything clearly: That woman seeks in vain, 
in society as now constituted, a mission worthy of herself. In other days, 
say in those when St. Theresa prayed and worked, there was a mission for 
Dorothea ; now there is none ; she is cheated and defrauded, she can expect 
no more than to be bound helpless upon the altar, and slain alive, and so 
sent out of the world with a broken heart and empty hands, having wrought 
nothing worthy of herself, because fast held and bound in the iron of our 
modern systems. Now, this is one-sided, and unreal from first to last; it is 
far from the truth ; there is work to do ; there are positions in which it may 
be done and conditions in which it may be carried on, as laudably, as 
gloriously, as of old. The moral of " Middlemarch " might be accepted, if 
the choice for Dorothea lay ever between men of the Casaubon and the 
Ladislaw types ; between faith without love, and brains without faith. But 
to refute the conclusion, one has but to recall certain precious and helpful 
visions, which, indeed, are not visions, but realities; visions which the 
malevolent romancer hides from us, but which you can see any day. 

CHRISTIAN HOMES. 

Look, then, at the Christian homes throughout the Christian lands, 
where holy virtues and graces flourish in an atmosphere of faith, little, if at 
all, disturbed by the storms which vex the outside world. There is the 
wherewithal to make other homes as sweet and fresh as these, and in such 
work many women who fear God and keep His commandments find their 
vocations amply fulfilled. 



THE SOCIAL LIFE. 175 



Look again at those with whom, in their fortunes here on earth, God 
hath dealt strangely, denying them their heart's desire, yet not leaving their 
hearts empty nor their hands idle. Think of the single women, whose lives 
in God*s sight are glorious, who have found out ways of helping others ; 
who have learned that love and sacrifice are the greatest words of the 
language. Some, by their writings, helpful and wholesome ; others, by 
devotion to philanthropic pursuits — as teachers, nurses of the sick, visitors 
of the poor and prisoner, mothers to the orphan, helpers to the clergy, 
beautifiers of the age by their artistic skill, ministering angels in half 
broken-up households — all these come forward and show us that there is 
still a mission for any devout and earnest woman who seeks it in faith and 
patience. 

WORKING-WOMEN AND GIRLS. 

And let me -speak also of the working-women and girls of this city, 
of whom I have known such great numbers in my twenty-three years of 
ministry in this parish. Well do they fulfil their mission in their own 
place. I have seen them going to their hard tasks and returning thence; 
they have told me of their trials and perils, of what they had to face, of the 
strife to lead pure, chaste life on starvation wages. I have seen poor 
working-girls growing up like fair white lilies in places in this city, where 
it would seem impossible for them to escape ; and I thought that these, 
also, toiling for their parents, their reckless brothers, their child-sisters, 
were showing us wonderful things, and fulfilling a mission which God will 
crown some day as among the highest works of His Kingdom. 



UNWHOLESOME WRITINGS. 

Such visions as these do wonderfully clear the thoughts, and he who 
has beheld them knows well what value to put on speculative, unwholesome 
writings, which leave the impression that the woman of to-day has no 
career before her, and that her life is that of one walking in a nightmare of 
doubt and uncertainty, burned up with the fever of hopeless aspiration, and 
finding neither health in the atmosphere nor help from man or God. 

Christian women, daughters of the Church, be true to your homes, to 
vows you have taken, whatever they may be, whether to your Lord in His 
ordinances, or to a man under the sanction of religion ; be true to God, to 
husband, to children, to friend, to the practical duties of daily fife, and 
above, below, around, we shall feel the influence of your virtue and 
strength, and shall be refreshed in your ennobling company with the 
multitudinous blessings of peace. — Morgan Dix. 



176 THE SOCIAL LIFE. 

THE ELEVATION OF WOMAN. 

HOW true and yet how strange it is that from time immemorial one-half 
of the human race has been proscribed ; that woman, so essential to 
its perpetuity, has been burdened with civil, and, I may say, religious 
disabilities, and degraded by social customs. This fact is the result of 
prejudice, which may be traced to many sources. There is no . other 
reasonable explanation of such an unfortunate condition of things. But 
as Christianity becomes potential in the world, this prejudice gives way; 
these legal, social, and religious disabilities are removed, and woman is 
rising to her true intellectual and moral position in the world. This 
marvellous revolution has been wrought by and through the Bible. 

WOMAN UNDER ROMAN LAW. 

The Jewish is the only ancient religion that was opposed to this 
proscription, and Christianity is the only modern religion that gives proper 
recognition to the rights of woman. The question therefore is, What has 
Christianity done for woman ? The assertion is boldly made by unbelievers 
that woman's high social position in this country is due to her freedom 
from religious restraint. Let us decide this question by an appeal to 
historic facts. Let us see what was the condition of woman under Roman 
law, under early Teutonic sway, and under the oldest and best religions of 
the East ; and then wherein has her condition been improved by Christianity. 

Let us take woman under Roman law. She had no voice in the 
government of the family. The father was the sole centre of authority. 
The husband had supreme power over his wife's property. He had over 
her the power of life and death. 

THE RIGHTS OF WOMAN. 

Roman marriage, in its consummation and in its dissolution, 
illustrated woman's sad condition. She married a master who had over 
her absolute control. 

Such was the social and legal condition of woman under the most 
magnificent civilization outside of Christendom, under a national life which 
created that jurisprudence which Justinian embodied in his Pandects, and 
which underlies, in its general principles, the civilization of the world. In 
a country where law was the boast of the people and the admiration of 
mankind, we might reasonably look for such a protection of the rights of 
woman as to reflect glory upon the age. But in vain do we search the legal 
records of the "Mistress of the World" for such a fact. 

Now what did Christianity do for woman through the modification 
of the Roman law ? As soon as the religion of our Lord gained control in 






THE SOCIAL LIFE. 177 

that empire, it created a new conception of woman's true position. Recall 
the wonderful changes made under Constantine, in the fourth century, and 
under Justinian in the sixth. By those changes the husband's absolute 
power was broken, the tutelage of woman was abolished, and she had rights 
in property. This was the beginning of the personal independence of 
woman, which is the glory of modern law and custom, and which has 
culminated in our present legislation. 

To accomplish this Christianity had a desperate struggle. She had 
to contend against old customs and inveterate habits, but she triumphed. 
How splendid are these words of Justinian : " We enact, then, that all 
persons, so far as they can, should preserve chastity, which alone is able to 
present their souls with confidence before God." 

HELENA'S DEVOTION. 

There were three powerful causes which operated to elevate woman 
under Christianity. She became a recognized factor in the Church ; she 
was among the most heroic of the blessed confessors who died at the stake, 
or in the arena of the Coliseum for the love of Christ ; and the discipline in 
the early Church not only protected the sanctity of marriage, but recognized 
woman as the equal of man. How many illustrious names appear in 
history reflecting the exalted character of woman under the dispensation of 
the New Testament ! It was Priscilla, more than any other human being, 
who laid the foundations of the Christian Church in Rome ; and the 
magnificent basilica of St. Peter's, instead of being a monument to Julius 
II. and Leo X., or to Michael Angelo or Raphael, is the enduring monu- 
ment of the Christian woman, Priscilla. And who does not remember 
Phoebe, that Grecian Christian lady who was the despatch-bearer of the 
inspired Epistles by St. Paul_ to the churches of Greece ? And who does 
not recall St. Helena, the mother of Constantine the Great, and her eminent 
devotion to Christianity? 

IT IS TO THE ENDURING HONOR OF CONSTANTINE 

that when he came to the throne he restored his mother to public favor 
and power. Constantius, his father, had repudiated her for Theodora, but 
the restoration of St. Helena was the noble expression of filial love under 
the power of a new religion. And it should be remembered that it was St. 
Helena who made a journey to the Holy Land, and rescued the Cave of the 
Nativity, and over it placed the splendid basilica which remains to this 
day; that it was St. Helena who discovered the supposed tomb of Christ in 
Jerusalem, and over it reared what is now known, and will be known in all 
the ages to come, as the Church of the Holy Sepulchre ; and who does not 



x 7 S THE SOCIAL LIFE. 

recall Paula, that Roman princess who accompanied St. Jerome to Palestine 
and distributed her ample fortune in charities and devotions'? These are 
the jewels in the crown of our Lord. These are the proofs of what 
Christianity has done for woman. 

And what was the condition of woman under the old Teutonic 
tribes ? True, she was revered, she was esteemed a prophetess in times of 
national peril ; her virtue was estimated as priceless. 

Yet it is an historic fact that among the Teutonic tribes polygamy was 
not unknown ; that the husband could be an absolute tyrant ; that he could 
put out the eyes and break the limbs of an unhappy wife. The woman 
was purchased like any other piece of property. She was a maiden to her 
lord, sat at his feet during his meals, and was a slave to his whims. The 
husband had the right to sell, to punish, and to kill the wife of his bosom. 

THE GERMANS. 

Happily for the world, Christianity permeated those Teutonic tribes 
before they were altogether corrupted by contact with the low Roman and 
Grecian civilizations. The religion of our Lord preserved whatever was 
good and modified whatever was evil. It threw its muniments of power 
around woman's priceless virtue ; it preserved the reverence in which she 
had been held ; more than this, it substituted monogamy for polygamy ; it 
broke the absolute tyranny of the husband ; it rescued woman from the 
public shambles and made her the equal and happy companion of her 
husband. And nowhere to-day outside of England is home such a sublime 
fact as in Germany. There and here the German husband and father is 
seen with the wife and mother and their children on all festive occasions. 
Do you tell me that with them he spends his time in beer-gardens? 

But this is better than the custom in this country for the polished 
American to leave wife and children at home and spend his nights amid 
the conviviality and gambling of a club-house. 

OLD RELIGIONS OF THE EAST. 

And what is the condition of woman under the old religions of the 
East ? Let us go to Japan, China, and India. Let us take woman there in 
her best estate, under the great religious teachers whose names are so 
honored in this country by certain persons. The great Confucius considered 
a woman no better than a slave, and as difficult to manage. "Ten 
daughters do not equal one son," he said. Here are some of his maxims : 
" When young she must obey her father and elder brother ; when married 
she must obey her husband ; when a widow she must obey her son. She 
must not marry a second time. She must never issue orders to those out- 



THE SOCIAL LIFE. 179 



side of her home. Her chief business is to prepare wine and food. She 
must not be known for good or evil beyond the threshold of her own apart- 
ments. She must not attend a funeral beyond the limits of her own State. 
She must not come to any conclusion on her own deliberation. There are 
five women who should not be taken in marriage : the daughter of a rebel, 
the daughter of a disorderly father, the daughter of parents whose grand- 
children are criminals, the daughter of a leper, and a daughter who has 
lost her father and elder brother." 

The great Buddha was not more favorable to women. He taught 
the monstrous notion of the transfiguration of souls, and the only hope for 
woman was that she might turn to be a man some time or other. 

Nor does the famous Brahmin do better for women. She is not 
permitted to read the holy Veda nor to offer prayer. She is soulless 
without man. The Shastas teach : " She must revere her husband as she 
would a god. If she speaks unkindly to him she must be divorced without 
delay, and when he is dead she must burn on his funeral pyre." 

Nor did Mohammed hold woman in higher esteem. The Arabs say: 
" Women are the whips of the devil. Trust neither a king, nor a horse, nor 
a woman." . When a son is born to a Moslem, his neighbors congratulate 
him, but when a daughter is born to him he goes to the bazaars to receive 
the condolence of his friends. 

MAXIMS OF CONFUCIUS. 

When a son is born, 

He sleeps on a bed, 

He is clothed in robes, 

He plays with gems, 

His cry is princely loud ; 

But when a daughter is born, 

She sleeps on the ground, 

She is clothed with a wrapper, 

She plays with a tile, 

She is incapable either of evil or good ; 

It is hers only to think of preparing wine and food, 

And not giving any occasion of grief to her parents. 

Now, by way of contrast, let us turn to the Bible. What is its idea 
of woman ? She is man's equal. Her creation is as honorable as that of 
man. She was made to be his companion. The Arabs have a legend that 
before Eve's creation man was a. perfect humanity, possessing strength, 
dignity and courage, grace, gentleness, and beauty, but that after the 



180 THE SOCIAL LIFE. 

mysterious rib was extracted man lost the grace, the gentleness, and the 
beauty, so that man without a wife is only half a man. 

THE JEWISH WOMAN'S CONDITION. 

In the Ten Commandments the Lord demands equality : " Honor thy 
father and thy mother." All of the Mosaic laws were essentially protective 
of woman. As a legislator Moses had to contend against polygamy, both 
simultaneous and successive, against concubinage and easy divorce, which 
were only too common. Throughout the East this social disorder was 
universal. Hence the courage of his legislation. His laws of marriage 
were at once preventive and protective. The Jewish law followed the girl 
into her apprenticeship, when she was compelled to support an indigent 
father, and it provided for her release at a given time, and protected her in 
her betrothal. It provided for the preservation of her family inheritance 
and the rights of her widowhood. And all the divorce laws enacted by 
Moses were in the interest of woman. 

And what is the New Testament idea of marriage ? It is a bond for . 
life or death. Purity and fidelity are demanded of both parties, and its 
final dissolution is justified by only one cause. Christ recognized women 
among his followers. He made companions of them. He treated them 
with tenderness. He sent a woman on the most important mission ever 
committed to a human being — to proclaim His triumphal resurrection. He 
restored marriage to its original state of purity. He declared that marriage 
is a state rather than an act, an institution rather than a law. He said 
marriage is not a convenience, nor a business transaction, nor a personal 
contract merely. He said it was not a civil rite, but a religious institution. 
He declared that it was ordained by the Almighty, hence neither an 
accident, nor a human device, nor a civil arrangement: 

marriage's three-fold design. 

Marriage has a three-fold design — companionship, multiplication, and 
happiness. The relations of husband and wife are prescribed by inspiration. 
St. Paul has been violently assailed because of his supposed degradation of 
woman. But woman never had a truer or a nobler defender of her rights 
than he. In the fifth chapter of Ephesians he discourses upon the mutual 
and reciprocal duties of husband and wife. "Husbands, love your wives, 
even as Christ also loved the Church and gave himself for it." " Wives, 
submit yourselves unto your husbands, as unto the Lord." So ought men 
to love their wives as their own bodies. He that loveth his wife, loveth 
himself, for no man ever hated his own flesh, but honoreth and cherisheth 
it, even as the Lord the Church." There is an apparent harshness in the 






THE SOCIAL LIFE. 



difference of these commands ; yet the woman's task is easier than the 
man's, and, withal, carefully guarded. It is eminently proper that there 
should be one ruling will in a family, which, by Divine appointment, is 
man's. Of old it was said : " Thy desire shall be to thy husband, and he 
shall rule over thee." But this submission is not a cringing servitude, a 
servile obedience to a lordly husband ; but a recognition of his headship of 
the family, a gentle acquiescence in his decisions, a calm and dignified 
respect paid him who bears the image of God and whose representative he 
is. In this the Bible goes on the supposition of what man should be, and 
notwhatheis; and were he as he should be, no pure and noble-minded 
woman would hesitate to render him this respect. But lest he should prove 
a tyrant she is to submit as unto the Lord ; that is, according to His law. 

LOVE IMPLIES TWO THINGS. 

Yet there is a limit to man's authority. He cannot compel her to do wrong. 
He may be profligate, but he cannot compel her to follow his example. He 
may be an infidel, but he cannot compel her to deny the Lord. He is bound 
to respect her rights of conscience and her feelings. He cannot compel her 
to neglect her filial duties, nor to disregard her own happiness. These are 
her reserved rights, not surrendered by the marriage contract. And what 
are the corresponding duties of the husband? "Husbands, love your 
wives, even as Christ also loved the Church and gave Himself for it." 
This is all that woman's heart can wish. Love implies two things : to 
take delight in a person, and to render that person happy. And how 
much should a husband love his wife? "As Christ loved the Church and 
gave Himself for it." The husband is to sacrifice himself for his wife if 
necessary. 

Such is the noble exhibition of the relative duties of husband and 
wife by St. Paul. 

MARRIAGE MORE THAN A MERE CONTRACT. 

Our Lord pronounced judgment upon the social and domestic vices 
of His age, and sought the elevation of woman by declaring the indissolu- 
bleness of the marriage tie except for one cause. He did not recognize 
incompatibility of temper, or insanity, or fickleness of choice, as justifiable 
causes of divorce. He knew the necessity of giving permanence to marriage. 
He knew that other causes might justify a separation, as where the husband 
is brutal, or intemperate, or fails to support his family ; but He does not 
give the right to remarry. And how essential and grand this truth ! If 
marriage is not permanent, what will be the effect upon the childhood of 
the Republic? If marriage is a mere contract, to be dissolved at the 



1 82 THE SOCIAL LIFE. 

pleasure of the parties, then farewell t'o home ! It was Judge Story, that 
eminent jurist, who said: "Marriage appears to be something more than a 
mere contract. It is rather to be deemed an institution of society, founded 
upon the consent and contract of the parties ; and in this view it has some 
peculiarities in its nature, character, operation, and extent of obligation 
different from what belongs to ordinary contracts." The reason that would 
justify the dissolution of marriage at the will of the parties would also 
justify the violation of all other obligations. Here is the greatest danger 
to society. 

Two things are needed in this country — namely, the enactment of a 
national marriage law and of a national law of divorce. The laws on these 
questions should be not diverse and local, but uniform and universal. Give 
us these, and we will rescue home from the danger that now threatens it. 
Let us see to it that this subject is taken into consideration by the chief 
legislative body of this country, for while the States have claimed as reserved 
rights the rights to legislate on marriage and divorce, it appears to me that 
the questions are radical in the welfare of the Republic, and that they 
rightfully belong to national legislation. 

The American woman occupies nearly the position which Christianity 
seems to assign her. She is a leader in all the great moral reforms of the 
day. She is the equal of man in personal rights. 

Woman should be a Christian. All her influence should be on the 
side of Christ. The great struggle of Christianity has been to rescue her 
from her degradation, and it would be only gratitude on her part to accept 
the Lord as her personal Redeemer.—/. P. Newman. 



o 



BE A WOMAN. 

FT I've heard a gentle mother, 

As the twilight hours began, 
Pleading with a son, of duty, 

Urging him to be a man ; 
But unto her blue-eyed daughter, 

Though with love's words quite as ready, 
Points she out this other duty, — 

" Strive, my dear, to be a lady." 

What's a lady ? Is it something 
Made of hoops and silks and airs, 

Used to decorate the parlor, 

Like the fancy mats and chairs ? 



THE SOCIAL LIFE. 183 



Is it one who wastes on novels 

Every feeling that is human ? 
If 'tis this to be a lady, 

'Tis not this to be a woman. 

Mother, then, unto your daughter 

Speak of something higher far 
Than to be mere fashion's lady — 

Woman is the brightest star. 
If you in your strong affection 

Urge your son to be a true man, 
Urge your daughter not less strongly 

To arise and be a woman. 

Yes, a woman — brightest model 

Of that high and perfect beauty 
Where the mind and soul and body 

Blend to work out life's great duty. 
Be a woman ! naught is higher 

On the gilded list of fame ; 
On the catalogue of virtue. 

There's no brighter, holier name. 

Be a woman! on to duty! 

Raise the world from all that's low ; 
Place high in social heaven 

Virtue's fair and radiant bow ; 
Lend thy influence to each effort 

That shall raise our nature human ; 
Be not fashion's gilded lady,— r 

Be a brave, whole-souled, true woman ! 

— Edwards Brooks. 



HOW HOME IS DESTROYED. 

ii ^HE that liveth in pleasure" saith the Apostle, "is dead while she liveth." 
*-* Measured by this rule, what a graveyard is society ! How many, 
now heaped together, are its dead ! To live in pleasure, to enjoy the world, 
to put aside serious thought ; how many are the households in which these 
are the leading principles of action ! The mischief begins in the education 
of the children. The high and the humble are in fault alike. Take, for 



1 84 THE SOCIAL LIFE. 

example, a mother, herself imperfectly educated, who lives, and moves, and 
has her being in the world ; her one idea will be to give her daughters a 
favorable introduction into society, and make them popular and successful. 
This is, in her view, the serious business of life. 

In a society thus dedicated to pleasure, offering low ideals, and 
planted with way-marks leading off from duty and from God, the young 
women, who from their high position and vast responsibilities, ought to do 
great things for us in their time, are prepared for the next step downward ; 
for the marriages so often made — mere mockeries of the sacred name. 
Girls so trained, and having imbibed the spirit of the age, will have their 
fixed ideas of the reason why it is well to be married ; and in numbers of 
instances the drift of their training is shown in the motives with which 
they enter into this estate. 

MARRYING FOR WEALTH. 

To marry for an establishment is the commonest of all things. But 
there are those who appear to have married chiefly in order to get a freedom 
to .enjoy the world which they could not have in their single condition. We 
have not yet come so far as to proclaim entire liberty to all the daughters 
of the land ; a girl is still under certain restraints ; she must observe certain 
proprieties ; she cannot do as she pleases. But, once a wife — O execrable 
profanation of the word! — she is independent and free; she may go where 
she likes, and do what she will ; no one can complain but her husband, and 
as for him, she will very soon teach him that she has no idea of being bound 
by his wish or command? Not to sacrifice herself to one individual did she 
marry, but rather to have the free run of every avenue leading to enjoyment 
in the world. 

We reach, in this subject of marriage, the most grave of all — the place 
of the worst sins. 

NO UNCOMMON THING. 

Nothing degrades women so effectively, or deteriorates them so 
hopelessly, as their errors on this subject. 

There is something appalling in the total irresponsibility of many 
married people. Young persons contract marriage with no apparent sense 
of the gravity of the act ; without reflecting that to live together after God's 
ordinance involves a test of the entire moral and religious nature, and trials 
which can be surmounted only by the charm and talisman of mutual 
respect, honor, and love. 

Some marry for money, some for position, some for more freedom ; 
we are taught now by the advanced thinkers that love is the last of all 



THE SOCIAL LIFE. 185 



motives, hardly to be regarded to-day as a rational motive. Now, when 
self-interest, in some one of its Protean shapes, is at the bottom of this 
proceeding, the moment self-interest is crossed or disappointed, they kick 
against the restraint. It is no uncommon thing to hear it said some time 
after a marriage, perhaps within a year or two : " She cares nothing about 
her husband now ; they are hardly ever together. Poor thing ! She made 
a great mistake in marrying him, and she sees it now, and admits it." Yes ; 
but that is not all. She goes her way as calmly and coolly as if nothing 
extraordinary had occurred ; as if marriage, after all, was not a thing of any 
consequence; as if it had enjoined no duty and imposed no responsibility. 
And no one seems to think the less of her, nor to be at all shocked or 
distressed ; it is quite a matter of course now — a little, trifling blunder, 
nothing serious ; let the carnival proceed ; let us all be bright and cheerful 
as ever; let us gad-about in the sunshine, and lose no joy of life. 
NO ONE IS RESPONSIBLE. 

Irresponsibility : it is the blight of the day. Somebody has blundered; 
no one is responsible. Home is made up, where God's full blessing has 
been granted, of the father, the mother, and the children. But where now, 
in many a home, is the father ? Where is the mother ? And where are the 
children? We see all about us the wrecks of homes; the shadows and 
ghosts of homes , the parodies of homes. Slowly are dying out the home- 
life, the home-influence, the home-training, the home-religion. 

And what is this home, out of which its heads fly, anywhere and 
everywhere, to find a pleasure which it can not give, and in which the 
principal teachers of the children are hirelings ? I ask their pardon, 
sometimes, for calling them hirelings, or thinking of them as such, for I 
have seen, amid the ruin of such empty and deserted homes, humble and 
pious servants, who had the heart which the mother seemed to have lost; 
who actually, in God's sight, were more the mothers of the children than 
the vain, forgetful creatures that bore them ; and in honoring such servants 
I have looked with amazement and horror on that dereliction ; with amaze- 
ment that any mother can thus resign what to a true woman should be the 
sweetest of all duties ; with horror at a neglect which marks the ebb of the 
tide and involves the penalties which must ensue when the decadence 
shall be complete. — Morgan Dix. 



DIVORCE. 

IT has been said, and truly, that it is impossible to use too strong language 
on the subject of divorce. I am at a loss and in doubt. At a loss for 
terms adequate to state the kind and degree of the peril now menacing the 



1 86 THE SOCIAL LIFE. 

social order and Christian civilization ; doubtful, whether it be not now too 
late to rouse men to a sense of the danger, and check the movement for 
the age. 

For evil, growing, may get such headway that to stop it requires 
more than human strength. The enemies appear to be without number, 
their onset all but irresistible ; and this is felt most painfully by those who, 
here and elsewhere, have ventured to confront this evil of the hour, this 
horrible shape which assails our honor and our purity, and strikes at the 
heart, the keystone of our civilization — the home. 

Moral poison is in the air we breathe ; it threatens the life of man, 
woman, and child ; it stifles, it chokes, it makes the whole head sick and 
the whole heart faint; it kills and dries up from the roots the love of 
chastity, virtue, and honor. 

HOW EASILY DIVORCES ARE OBTAINED. 

Divorce, with the privilege of marrying again; divorce which 
absolutely separates the married, destroys the home, and throws the road 
open to other alliances — that is the abomination with which we have -to 
deal to-day. Unquestionably that is the point aimed at; that a divorce for 
any cause shall carry with it the freedom to marry again; and that the 
causes for which divorce may be obtained shall be made so numerous that 
any married couple may easily be parted under the form and shadow of 
law. In the State of Maine a divorce, full and absolute, may now be 
granted, not merely for any one of the long list of specified causes, but, 
adds the statute, "by any Justice of the Supreme Court, whenever, in the 
exercise of sound discretion, he deems it reasonable and proper, conducive 
to domestic harmony, and consistent with the peace and morality of 
society!" Think of that! A divorce may be granted on any ground 
approved as reasonable by a judge ! And what will they do where judges, 
invested with such a power, shall be placed in office by the vote of a people 
unrestrained by the curb of religion and debased by the morals of a revived 
paganism ? 

UNIFORM LAW OF DIVORCE NEEDED. 

What we need is an uniform system of law regulating marriage and 
divorce throughout the United States; but how can we get it? or who can 
predict what it would be ? 

What is the theory underlying this steady movement for increased 
facilities for divorce ? This : that marriage is a civil contract, and no more. 
Now, such contracts are terminable at the pleasure of the parties. This is 
the idea of marriage, which has been sedulously taught for a long time 
past ; it is like a business partnership. Nothing is necessary in forming 



THE SOCIAL LIFE. 187 

this social partnership, but ability and consent; and when the partners 
find it to their interest to dissolve the firm, they ought to be free to do so. 

Marriage is not a mere civil contract. It is a divine institution. It 
makes a man and a woman one flesh. It binds them together for life in an 
union never to be dissolved. It gives them one nature, one life, one aim, 
common interests ; they should be one in thought, mind, will, love ; in each 
other they should find their full and entire happiness. Nowhere is this so 
beautifully brought out as in St. Paul's Epistle to the Ephesians. The 
union of the husband and the wife is effected, not as human partnerships 
are made, but by Divine power. One flesh, each is to the other as his or 
her own self. A man must love his wife, because she is himself, and no man 
ever hated his own flesh. 

A WOMAN MUST BE SUBJECT TO HER HUSBAND 

in everything, for love's sake, and in love, and because she is to him as the 
Church is to Christ. Their union should be holy and without blemish. 
The household should reflect the glory of the Church, which is without 
spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing. There is no shame, no dishonor; 
marriage is honorable, holy, blessed of God, the joy of angels, the bond of 
peace, and of all virtues. 

Can such an union as this be dissolved, under any circumstances, so 
that the parties, or either of them, shall be free to form another ? If it is 
God who joins them together — then God only can answer the question 
before us, and the one thing to be asked is, What has God said about it? 

But God said : " They are no more twain, but one flesh. What, therefore, 
God hath joined together, let no man put asunder." (St. Matt., 19 : 6.) And, 
again, God said: "Whosoever putteth azvay his wife and marrieth another, 
committeth adultery: and whosoever marrieth her that is put away from her 
husband commit teth adultery." (St. Luke, 16 : 18.) 

The words are as clear as the lightning which cometh out of the East 
and shineth even unto the West. 

THE SOCIAL AND MORAL WRECK. 

Let the woman remember that it is the religion of Jesus Christ which 
has sanctified her person and exalted her sex; that every word of Christ 
touching her relations to man, as maid, as wife, as widow, is for her a word 
of life ; that there is not, and can not be, a work more urgent for her, or 
more essential to her safety and honor, than to see that those words of 
Christ are kept perpetually before the community, blazoned and illuminated, 
as the very talismans of social security. The social and moral wreck of the 
woman will be complete, when the conspiracy against Holy Matrimony has 



THE SOCIAL LIFE. 



come to a triumph. Then this will be the history: that she whom God 
lifted from the estate of concubine and slave, and crowned with honor and 
glory as a Christian wife, will, after having turned away from God to follow 
her own devices, sink back to be once more man's concubine and slave. The 
conditions may vary, to match the altered aspects of the world ; the thing 
will be the same ; the lapse will be into the old misery and bitterness ; and 
once more shall the fetters be riveted on her limbs, and once more shall the 
iron enter into her soul; and "there shall be weeping and gnashing of 
teeth." — Morgan Dix. 

FORCE OF CHARACTER. 

A VIRTUOUS woman is an evangel of goodness to the world. She is 
one of the pillars in the eternal kingdom of right. The world would 
go to ruin without the influence of woman's moral and religious character. 
But woman does not do enough. Her power is not equal to its need. The 
world is a grand Pandora's box of wickedness — a far-spread scene of selfish- 
ness and sensualism, in which woman herself acts a conspicuous part. 
There is to-day a loud call for a more active religion — a more powerful 
impulse in behalf of morality. To youthful women we must look for a 
leader in the cause of morality and religion. The girls of to-day are greatly 
instrumental in giving a beautiful complexion to the society of to-morrow. 
Why do not the women of to-day exercise that same moral sway over 
their male associates that our fathers tell us our mothers did over them ? 
Because they do not possess sufficient force of character. Their moral wills 
are not resolute. Their influence is not armed with executive power. They 
would not have a drunkard for a husband, but they will drink a glass of 
wine with a young man in our fashionable restaurants or hotels, on the 
way home from the theatre. They would not take the name of God in vain, 
but they love the society of men who swear like troopers out of their 
presence. They would not be dishonest, but they exaggerate and 
equivocate, and affect and pretend, so that many men seldom think of 
believing what young women tell them. They countenance the society of 
tricksters and deceivers, and allow a ten-dollar-a-week society swell to spend 
twice that amount on them for theatre tickets, carriages, flowers, etc., when 
they know, or ought to know, that these things are unpaid for, employers 
robbed, or appearances kept up by borrowing or sponging. They would 
not be irreligious, but they smile upon men who boast that for years they 
had not been inside of a church, and sneer at God and Divine things, and 
proclaim themselves " free thinkers." They would not be licentious, but have 
no stunning rebuke for men whose very touch is pollution, and admit them 
into their society. 



THE SOCIAL LIFE. 189 

This is the virtue of too many women. We need women who will 
regard their moral convictions as solemn resolves to be true to God and 
duty, come what may. A young lady by her constant and consistent 
Christian example can exert an untold power for good, and in this way only 
can she make the young man believe that her religion is the thing for him. 
Associate with men of intelligence and sense ; with men whose language 
is chaste and good, whose sentiments are lofty and edifying, and whose 
deportment is such as correct morals dictate. She is truly beautiful who 
can gather the good around her for the blessing of her smiles, and strew 
men's pathways with moral light. Fair to God is she who teaches the 
sentiments of duty and honesty in every act of her life. 



THE WORKINGWOMAN'S CRY OF DESPAIR. 

THERE are in New York City 125,000 women who are bread-winners, 
who have no male protectors, no means of stipport other than their 
own efforts. There are 32,500 out of employment; 30,000 destitute, and 
every year 20,000 are dropping away to evil habits because they are 
destitute. 

Consider these serious facts. 

STARVATION WAGES. 

They are obliged to accept whatever wages are offered. There are 
trained sewing-women making waists at 2^ cents each. One woman is 
reported who was able to make 25 cents a day, working nineteen hours. 
You go out some day and buy a cloak, satin-lined and quilted. Well, it is 
perhaps made by a woman who makes 50 or 60 cents working sixteen hours 
a day. 

Similar statistics come from Buffalo. Women make trousers for 
from 12)4 to 25 cents, and shirts for from 6% to 12^ cents. They earn 
from $1.50 to $5 a week. Overalls are made for 62 cents a dozen; flannel 
shirts for $1 a dozen. 

A change in fashion, such as in feathers, may throw 4,000 women out 
of work. Of 2,000 women, 134 averaged $1; 356 averaged $2. 

CRUEL FATE. 

One winter day a young woman came to me for advice. A wealthy 
man was said to be responsible for her condition. She wished to lead an 
honest life, and she could earn from $12 to #14 a month. Her board cost 
her from #3 to #3.50 a week. I hardly knew what to advise her. I hardly 



i 9 o THE SOCIAL LIFE. 

know what her end will be. I knew no one who would take her with the 
spot on her character. She went out again to struggle, to fight the battle 
of life. 

If we have no sympathy with such women, I think that a statement 
such as this, made by a workingwoman, would help us to understand the 
temptations, would incline us to listen to their cry of despair : 

"I have worked eleven years. I have. learned five trades, both with 
the needle and the machine. I work fourteen hours a day, for my children 
have to be fed. I know all the trades well. Five years ago I made $1.50 a 
day. Then wages went down to 90 and 85 cents. For a year the best I 
could do has been 80 and 75 cents a day. 

" I am sixty-two years old. I can't learn new ways. I am strong. I 
can work fourteen hours a day, and I never asked help. I used to say when 
trouble came that it was the Lord's way; now I don't believe it." 

SOMETHING WRONG. 

It does not seem possible in this nineteenth century, with all its 
civilization, with all the churches in the land, that there could be any such 
woman in the midst of us. 

In our churches we have beautiful pictures, good music, all the 
advantages that wealth can give ; and we let the Master go on His solitary- 
way to the cross, for He goes to the cross every time a woman like this cries 
out in her grief. 

Something must be wrong in our methods of living, in our economics, 
or such things could not exist. 

You, daughters, in your purity, do not forget that outside the home 
circle, beyond the Church — for somehow they don't often come to the 
Church ; they seem outside the influence of the Church — women are 
working, slaving, until misery shuts down on them, and they feel they are 
forgotten by God. 

Women are crying out in despair for help. The " Song of the Shirt " 
might be sung every day in New York. Twenty thousand women are 
going down every year blasted for the sins of men, because we do not know 
how to reach them with the power of the Gospel. 

HOW TO REACH THEM. 

How can we reach them ? 

First let us educate every woman to understand the dignity of labor. 
How many are able now to do the first thing about the household ? How 
many fathers and mothers are there who say, " We have labored hard all 
our lives that our children shall not know what labor is ?" This is essentially 



THE SOCIAL LIFE. 191 

wrong. Let the daughter of every rich man in the land be taught to labor, 
so that if thrown on the world she will be able to support herself without 
selling herself. 

Then educate women so that they may accept more opportunities of 
earning a livelihood. Why should so many be earning a bare subsistence, 
particularly by the needle, when trained nurses command almost any price, 
and are worth it? 

In the city it is almost impossible to get a trained housekeeper. 
There is nothing menial in the common work of the house. Women 
trained in such work come from other countries, are generally well paid, 
live well, have opportunities of seeing their friends, and are able to lay up 
something. Other women, from false pride or training, are unwilling to 
accept housework as a calling. But they ply the needle under a severe 
overseer, and for a pittance. 

BARGAIN COUNTERS. 

There is another thing which I find it hard to express. We ought so 
to govern ourselves as not to delight in getting big bargains. To get 
bargains some women will go from store to store in search of them, 
compelling merchants to reduce the expenses at the bargain counters. 
Often blood and life are lost in consequence by the women who serve at 
these counters. These employers are in a measure responsible, but there 
is one thing which every one may do — don't buy anything without paying 
a fair price for it. Whenever anything you want is worth a certain price, 
buy it ; but don't try to take the blood and life of women by getting it 
cheaper. 

These bargain counters are in many cases bargains with the devil, 
and they are, in part, the cause of 20,000 women every year selling their 
honor, because they can't get living wages at bargain-counter prices. 

More charity should be shown to workingwomen. They should 
have our encouragement and sympathy. In this the winter season, as their 
condition grows harder, let your hearts grow softer. 

SYMPATHY NEEDED. 

There are many women such as her who came to me for advice. 
Before you treat them with scorn, remember the words of Christ : "Let him 
that is without sin among you cast the first stone." Therefore, " Let him 
that is without responsibility among you hold himself without shame." 

Women have no suffrage, no power to enforce their rights. Oh, that 
cry of despair, let it reach your ears! Remember the 125,000 working- 
women, the 32,500 out of employment, the 30,000 destitute and the 20,000 



192 THE SOCIAL LIFE. 



going to moral death. Study the laws of trade to alter their condition if 
possible, that starving women may once more see the light and believe that 
there is a just God, because there are good and just men and women in the 
world. — Dr. Eaton. 



THE SCIENCE OF SELF-SUPPORT. 

AS no boy ought to be brought up without learning some business at 
which he could earn a livelihood, so no girl ought to be brought up 
without learning the science of self-support. 

The difficulty is that many a family goes sailing on the high tides of 
success, and the husband and father depends on his own health and 
acumen for the welfare of his household, but one day he gets his feet wet, 
and in three days pneumonia has closed his life, and the daughters are 
turned out on a cold world to earn bread, and there is nothing practical 
that they can do. The friends come in and hold consultation. " Give music 
lessons," says an outsider. Yes, that is a useful calling. But there are enough 
music teachers now starving to death in all our towns and cities, to occupy 
all the piano stools and sofas and chairs and front-door steps of the city. 
Besides that, the daughter has been playing only for amusement, and is 
only at the foot of the ladder, to the top of which a great multitude of 
masters on piano and harp and flute and organ have climbed. 

" Put the bereft daughters as saleswomen in stores," says another 
adviser. But there they must compete with salesmen of long experience, 
or with men who have served an apprenticeship in commerce and who 
began as shop-boys at ten years of age. Some kind-hearted dry goods man, 
having known the father, now gone, says, " We are not in need of any more 
help just now, but send your daughters to my store, and I will do as well 
by them as possible. Very soon the question comes up, Why do not the 
female employes of that establishment get as much wages as the male 
employes? For the simple reason, in many cases, the females were 
suddenly flung by misfortune behind that counter, while the males have 
from the day they left the public school been learning the business. 

How is this evil to be cured ? Start clear back in the homestead 
and 

TEACH YOUR DAUGHTERS 

that life is an earnest thing, and that there is a possibility, if not a strong 
probability, that they will have to fight the battle of life alone. Let every 
father and mother say to their daughters, " Now, what would you do for a 
livelihood, if what I now own were swept away by financial disaster or old 
age, or death should end my career ?" 



THE SOCIAL LIFE. 193 

" Well, I could make recitations in public and earn my living as a 
dramatist ; I could render King Lear or Macbeth till your hair would rise 
on end, or give you "Sheridan's Ride " or Dickens' " Pickwick." Yes, that is a 
beautiful art, but ever and anon, as now, there is an epidemic of dramati- 
zation that makes hundreds of households nervous with the cries and 
shrieks and groans of young tragediennes dying in the fifth act ; and the 
trouble is that while your friends would like to hear you and really think 
that you would surpass Ristori, you could not, in the way of living, in ten 
years earn ten cents. My advice to all girls and unmarried women, whether 
in affluent homes or in homes where most stringent economies are grinding, 
is to learn to do some kind of work that the world must have while the 
world stands. I am glad to see a marvellous change for the better, and 
that women have found out that there are hundreds of practical 

THINGS THAT A WOMAN CAN DO 

for a living if she begins soon enough, and that men have been compelled 
to admit it. You and I can remember when the majority of occupations 
were thought inappropriate for women ; but our Civil War came, and the 
hosts of men went forth from North and South ; and to conduct the busi- 
ness of our cities during the patriotic absence, women were demanded by 
the tens of thousands to take the vacant places, and multitudes of women, 
who had been hitherto supported by fathers and brothers and sons, were 
compelled from that time to take care of themselves. From that time a 
mighty change took place favorable to female employment. 

OCCUPATIONS APPROPRIATE FOR WOMEN. 

Among the occupations appropriate for woman, I place the following, 
into many of which she has already entered, and all the others she will enter: 
Stenography, and you may find her at nearly all the reportorial stands in 
our educational, political, and religious meetings. Savings banks, the work 
clean and honorable, and who so great a right to toil there, for a woman 
founded the first savings bank — Mrs. Priscilla Wakefield. Copyists, and 
there is hardly a professional man that does not need the service of her 
penmanship, and, as amanuensis, many of the greatest books of our day 
have been dictated for her writing. There they are as florists and confec- 
tioners and music-teachers and bookkeepers, for which they are specially 
qualified by patience and accuracy, and wood engraving, in which the 
Cooper Institute has turned out so many qualified ; and telegraphy, for 
which she is specially prepared, as thousands of telegraphic offices will 
testifv. 



i 9 4 THE SOCIAL LIFE. 



Photography, and in nearly all our establishments they may be found 
there at cheerful work. As workers in ivory and gutta-percha and 
gum-elastic and tortoise-shell and gilding, and in chemicals, in porcelain, in 
terra-cotta. As post-mistresses, and the President is giving them appoint- 
ments all over the land. As proof-readers, as translators, as modellers, 
as designers, as draughtswomen, as lithographers ; as teachers, for 
which they are especially endowed, the first teacher of every child by 
Divine arrangement, being a woman. 

AS PHYSICIANS, HAVING GRADUATED 

after a regular course. On the lecture platform, for you know the brilliant 
success of Mrs. Livermore and Mrs. Hallowell and Mrs. Lathrop and Miss 
Willard. As physiological lecturers to their own sex, for which service 
there is a demand appalling and terrific. As preachers of the Gospel, and 
all the protests of ecclesiastical courts can not hinder them, for they have a 
pathos and a power in their religious utterances that men can never reach. 
Witness all those who have heard their mother pray. 

Oh, young woman of America ! as many of you will have to fight 
your own battles alone, do not wait until you are flung of disaster, and your 
father is dead, and all the resources of your family have been scattered ; 
but now, while in a good house and environed by all prosperities, learn how 
to do some kind of 

WORK THAT THE WORLD MUST HAVE 

as long as the world stands. Turn your attention from the embroidery of 
fine slippers, of which there is a surplus, and make a useful shoe. Expend 
the time in which you adorn a cigar-case in learning how to make a good 
honest loaf of bread. Turn your attention from the making of flimsy 
nothings to the manufacturing of important somethings. 

Much of the time spent in young ladies' seminaries in studying what 
are called the "higher branches," might better be expended in teaching 
them something by which they could support themselves. If you are going 
to be teachers, or if you have so much assured wealth that you can always 
dwell in those high regions, trigonometry of course, metaphysics of course, 
Latin, and Greek, and German, and French, and Italian, of course, and a 
hundred other things of course ; but if you are not expecting to teach, and 
your wealth is not established beyond misfortune, after you have learned 
the ordinary branches, take hold of that kind of study that will pay in 
dollars and cents in case you are thrown on your own resources. Learn to 
do something better than anybody else. Buy Virginia Penny's book, 
entitled " The Employments of Women," and learn there are five hundred 
ways in which a woman may earn a living. 




illl-HallDWEEn, 



THE SOCIAL LIFE. 197 

"No, no!" says some young woman, "I will not undertake anything 
so unromantic and commonplace as that." An excellent author writes that 
after he had, in a book, argued for efficiency in womanly work in order to 
success, and positive apprenticeship by way of preparation, a prominent 
chemist advertised that he would teach a class of women to become 
druggists and apothecaries if they would go through an apprenticeship as 
men do ; and a printer advertised that he would take a class of women to 
learn the printer's trade if they would go through an apprenticeship as 
men do ; and how many, according to the account of the author, do you 
suppose applied to become skilled in the drug business and printing 
business? Not one! 

" But," you ask, "what would my father and mother say if they saw 
I was doing such 

UNFASHIONABLE WORK?" 

Throw the whole responsibility upon the pastor of the Brooklyn Tabernacle, 
who is constantly hearing of young women in all these cities, who, 
unqualified by their previous luxurious surroundings for the awful struggle 
of life into which they have been suddenly hurled, seemed to have nothing 
left them but a choice between starvation and damnation. There they go 
along the street seven o'clock in the wintry mornings, through the slush 
and storm, to the place where they shall earn only half enough for 
subsistence, the daughters of once prosperous merchants, lawyers, clergy- 
men, artists, bankers, and capitalists, who brought up their children under 
the infernal delusion that it was not high-tone for women to learn a 
profitable calling. Young women ! take this affair in your own hand, and 
let there be an insurrection in all prosperous families of Brooklyn and New 
York and Christendom on the part of the daughters of this day, demanding 
knowledge in occupations and styles of business by which they may be 
their own defence and their own support if all fatherly and husbandly and 
brotherly hands forever fail them. I have seen 

TWO SAD SIGHTS, 

the one a woman in all the glory of her young life, stricken by disease, and 
in a week lifeless in a home in which she had been the pride. As her 
hands were folded over the still heart and her eyes closed for the last 
slumber, and she was taken out amid the lamentations of kindred and 
friends, I thought that was sadness immeasurable. But I have seen some- 
thing compared with which that scene was bright and songful. It was a 
young woman who had been all her days amid wealthy surroundings, 
turned out on a cold world without one lesson how to earn food and shelter 



198 THE SOCIAL LIFE. 

and hurled into the awful whirlpool of city life, where strong ships have 
gone down, and for twenty years not one word has been heard from her. 

Vessels, last week, went out on the Atlantic Ocean looking for a 
shipwrecked craft that had been left alone and forsaken on the sea, to bring 
it into port. But who shall ever bring again into the harbor of peace and 
hope and Heaven that lost womanly-immortal, driven into that tempest, 
aflame in that conflagration, sinking into that abyss? O God, help! O 
Christ, rescue ! 

DO THAT WHICH IS NECESSARY. 

My sisters, give not your time to learning fancy work, but connect 
your skill with indispensables of life. The world will always want 
something to wear; and something to eat, and shelter and fuel, and 
knowledge and religion. And all these things will continue to be the 
necessaries, and if you fasten your energies upon occupations and profes- 
sions thus related, the world will be unable to do without you. Remember, 
that in proportion as you are skilful in anything, your rivalries become 
less. For unskilled toil, women by the millions. But you may rise to 
where there are only a thousand ; and still higher, till there are only a 
hundred ; and still higher, till there are only ten ; and still higher, in some 
particular department, till there is only a unit, and that yourself. For a 
while you may keep wages and a place through the kindly sympathy of 
an employer, but you will eventually get no more compensation than you 
can make yourself worth. 

Let me say to all women who have already entered upon the battle 
of life, that the time is coming when woman shall not only get as much 
salary and wages as men get, but for certain styles of employment women 
will have higher salary and more wages, for the reason that for some styles 
of work they have more adaptation. But this 

JUSTICE WILL COME TO WOMAN 

not through any sentiment of gallantry, not because woman is physically 
weaker than man, and, therefore, ought to have more consideration shown 
her, but because through her finer natural taste and more grace of manner, 
and quicker perception, and more delicate touch, and more educated 
adroitness, she will, in certain callings, be to her employer worth ten per 
cent, more, or twenty per cent, more than the other sex. She will not get 
it by asking for it, but by earning it, and it shall be hers by lawful conquest. 
Now, men of America, be fair and give the women a chance. 
Are you afraid that they will do some of your work, and hence harm your 
prosperities ? Remember that there are scores of thousands of men doing 
women's work. Do not be afraid ! God knows the end from the beginning, 



THE SOCIAL LIFE. 199 

and He knows how many people this world can feed and shelter, and when 
it gets too full He will end the world, and, if need be, start another. God 
will halt the inventive faculty, which, by producing a machine that will do 
the work of ten or twenty or a hundred men and women, will leave that 
number of people without work. I hope that there will not be invented 
another sewing-machine, or reaping-machine, or corn-thresher, or any other 
new machine for the next five hundred years. We want no more wooden 
hands and iron hands and steel hands and electric hands substituted for 
men and women, who would otherwise do the work and get the pay and 
earn the livelihood. 

DO YOUR BEST AND TRUST GOD. 

But God will arrange all, and all we have to do is to do our best and 
trust Him for the rest. Let me cheer all women fighting the battle of life 
alone, with the fact of thousands of women who have won the day. Mary 
Lyon, founder of Mount Holyoke Seminary, fought the battle alone; 
Adelaide Newton, the tract distributer, alone ; Fidelia Fisk, the consecrated 
missionary, alone ; Dorothea Dix, the angel of the insane asylums, alone ; 
Caroline Herschel, the reinforcement of her brother, alone; Maria 
Takrzewska, the heroine of the Berlin hospital, alone ; Helen Chalmers, 
patron of the sewing-schools for the poor of Edinburgh, alone. And 
thousands and tens of thousands of women, of whose bravery and self- 
sacrifice and glory of character the world has made no record, but whose 
deeds are in the heavenly archives of martyrs who fought the battle alone, 
and though unrecognized for the short thirty or fifty or eighty years of 
earthly existence, shall through the ages of the higher world be pointed 
out with the admiring cry, " These are they who have come out of great 
tribulation, and have washed their robes and made them white in the blood 
of the Lamb." — Talmage. 



THE DANCE. 



1AM, by natural temperament and religious theory, utterly opposed to the 
position of those who are horrified at every demonstration of mirth and 
playfulness in social life, and who seem to think that everything decent and 
immoral depends upon the style in which people carry their feet. On the 
other hand, I can see nothing but ruin, moral and physical, in the dissipa- 
tions of the ball-room. 

Dancing has been styled, " the graceful movement of the body 
adjusted by art, to the measures or tunes of instruments or of the voice." 



THE SOCIAL LIFE, 



All nations have danced. In other days there were festal dances and 
funeral dances, and " mediatorial " dances, and military dances, and Bac- 
chanalian dances. Queens and lords have swayed to and fro in their gardens, 
and the rough men of the backwoods in this way have roused up the echo 
of the forest. There seems to be something in lively and coherent sounds 
to evoke the movement of the hand and foot. Men passing along the 
street unconsciously keep step to the music of the band, and Christians in 
church unconsciously find themselves keeping time with their feet, while 
their soul is uplifted by some great harmony. Not only is this true in 
cultured life, but the red men of Oregon have their scalp dances, and green- 
corn dances, and war dances. It is, therefore, no abstract question that you 
ask me — is it right to dance? 

The ancient fathers, aroused by the indecent dances of those days, 
gave emphatic evidence against any participation in the dance. St. 
Chrysostom says, "The feet were not given for dancing, but to walk 
modestly; not to leap impudently like camels." 

ANCIENT DOGMAS. 

One of the dogmas of the ancient church reads : "A dance is the 
devil's possession, and he that entereth into a dance, entereth into his 
possession. The devil is the gate to the middle and to the end of the 
dance. As many passes as a man makes in dancing, so many passes doth 
he make to hell." Elsewhere, these old dogmas declare — "The woman that 
singeth in the dance is the princess of the devil ; and those that answer are 
his clerks, and the beholders are his friends, and the music is his bellows, 
and the fiddlers are the ministers of the devil; for, as when hogs are 
strayed, if the hogs'-herd call one, all assemble together, so the devil 
calleth one woman to sing in the dance, or to play on some instrument, and 
presently all the dancers gather together." 

DENUNCIATION OF DANCING. 

This wholesale and indiscriminate denunciation grew out of the utter 
dissoluteness of those ancient plays. So great at one time was the offence 
to all decency, that the Roman Senate decreed the expulsion of all dancers 
and dancing-masters from Rome. 

Yet we are not to discuss the customs of that day, but the customs 
of the present. We can not let the fathers decide the question for us. Our 
reason, enlightened by the Bible, shall be the standard. I am not ready to 
excommunicate all those who lift their feet beyond a certain height. I 
would not visit our youth with a rigor of criticism that would put out all 
their ardor of soul. I do not believe that all the inhabitants of Wales who 



THE SOCIAL LIFE. 



used to step to the sound of the rustic pibcorn, went down to ruin. I 
would give to all our youth the right to romp and play. God meant it, or 
he would not have surcharged our natures with such exuberance. If a 
mother join hands with her children, and while the eldest strikes the keys, 
fill all the house with the sounds of agile feet, I see no harm. 

If a few friends, gathered in home circle, conclude to cross and 
recross the room to the sound of the piano, I see no harm. I for a long 
time tried to see in it a harm, but I never could and I probably never will. 
God bless the young ! They will live many a day if they want to hear me 
say one word to damp their ardor or clip their wings, or to throw a cloud 
upon their lives by telling them that life is hard, and dark, and doleful. It 
is no such thing. 

LET THE YOUNG BE HAPPY. 

Let us not grudge the young their joy. As we go further on in life, 
let us go with the remembrance that we had our gleeful days. When old 
age frosts our locks and stiffens our limbs, let us not block up the way, but 
say, " We had our good times, now let others have theirs." 

But while we have a right to the enjoyments of life, we never will 
countenance sinful indulgences. I here set forth a group of what might 
be called the dissipations of the ball-room. They swing an awful scythe 
of death. Are we to stand idly by and let the work go on, lest in the 
rebuke we tread upon the long trail of some popular vanity ? The whirl- 
pool of the ball-room drags down the life, the beauty and the moral worth 
of the city. In this whirlwind of imported silks goes out the life of many 
of our best families. Bodies and souls innumerable are annually consumed 
in this conflagration of ribbons. 

THE ABETTOR OF PRIDE. 

This style of dissipation is the abettor of pride, the instigator of 
jealousy, the sacrificial altar of health, the defiler of the soul, the avenue of 
lust, and the curse of the town. The tread of this wild, intoxicating) 
heated, midnight dance, jars all the moral hearth-stones of the city. The 
physical ruin is evident. What will become of those who work all day 
and dance all night ? A few years will turn them out nervous, exhausted 
imbeciles. Those who have given up their midnights to spiced wines and 
hot suppers, and ride home through winter's cold, unwrapped from the 
elements, will at last be recorded suicides. 

There is but a short step from the ball-room to the grave-yard. 
There are consumptions and fierce neuralgias close on the track. Amid 
that glittering maze of ball-room splendors, diseases stand right and left 



THE SOCIAL LIFE. 



and balance and chain. A sepulchral breath floats up amid the perfume, 
and the froth of Death's lip bubbles up in the champagne. 

Many of our brightest homes are being sacrificed. There are families 
that have actually quit keeping house and gone to boarding, that they may 
give themselves more exclusively to the higher duties of the ball-room. 
Mothers and daughters, fathers and sons, finding their highest enjoyment 
in the dance, bid farewell to books, to quiet culture, to all the amenities of 
home. The father will, after awhile, go down into low dissipations. The 
son will be tossed about in society, a nonentity. The daughter will elope 
with a French dancing-master. The mother, still trying to stay in the 
glitter, and by every art attempting to keep the color on her cheek and the 
wrinkles off her brow, attempting, without any success, all the arts of the 
belle — an old flirt, a poor, miserable butterfly without any wings. If any 
thing on earth is beautiful, it is an aged woman, her hair floating back over 
the wrinkled brow, not frosted, but white with blossoms of the tree of life, 
her voice tender with past memories and her face a benediction. 

ASHAMED OF BEING OLD. 

But if anything on earth is distressful to look at, it is an old woman 
ashamed of being old. What with paint and false hair, she is too much for 
my gravity. I laugh even in church when I see her coming in. One of the 
worst looking birds is a peacock after it has lost its feathers. I would not 
give one lock of my mother's hair for fifty thousand such caricatures of old 
age. The first time you find these faithful disciples of the ball-room 
diligently engaged and happy in the duties of the home circle, send me 
word, for I would go a great way to see such a phenomenon. These 
creatures have no home. One would think you might discover even amid 
the witcheries of the ball-room the sickening odors of the unswept, 
unevntilated, and unclean domestic apartments. These dissipations 
extinguish all love of usefulness. How could you expect any one to be 
interested in the alleviations of the world's misery, while there is a 
question to be decided about the size of a glove or the shade of a pongee? 

HARASSING ANXIETY ABOUT DRESS. 

This gilded sphere is utterly bedwarfing to intellect and soul. This 
constant study of little things; this harassing anxiety about dress; this 
talk of infinitesimals ; this shoe-pinched, half-frizzled, fringe-spattered group 
— that simper and look askance at the mirrors and wonder, with infinity of 
interest, "how that one geranium leaf does look;" this shrivelling up of 
man's moral dignity, until it is no more observable with the naked eye; 
this talking of a woman's heart, that God meant should be filled with all 



THE SOCIAL LIFE. 203 



amenities and compressing it until all the fragrance, and simplicity, and 
artlessness are squeezed out of it ; this inquisition of a small shoe ; this 
agony of tight lacing ; this wrapping up of mind and heart in a ruffle ; this 
tumbling down of a soul that God meant for great uplif tings ! 

I prophesy the spiritual ruin of all participators in this rivalry. 
Have the white polished, glistening boards ever been the road to Heaven? 
Who at the flash of those chandeliers hath kindled a torch for eternity ? 
From the table spread at the close of that excited and besweated scene, who 
went home to say his prayers ? 

LIFE AS A MASQUERADE BALL. 

To many, alas ! this life is a masquerade ball. As at such entertain- 
ments, gentlemen and ladies appear in the dress of kings or queens, 
mountain bandits or clowns, and at the close of the dance throw off their 
disguises, so, in this dissipated life, all unclean passions move in mask. 
Across the floor they trip merrily. The lights sparkle along the wall, or 
drop from the ceiling — a cohort of fire ! The music charms. The diamonds 
glitter. The feet bound. Gemmed hands stretched out, clasp gemmed 
hands. Dancing feet respond to dancing feet. Gleaming brow bends low 
to gleaming brow. On with the dance ! Flash and rustle, and laughter, 
and immeasurable merry-making! But the languor of death comes over 
the limbs, and blurs the sight. Lights lower / Floor hollow with sepulchral 
echo. Music saddens into a wail. Lights lower ! The maskers can hardly 
now be seen. Flowers exchange their fragrance for a sickening odor, such 
as comes from garlands that have lain in vaults of cemeteries. Lights 
lower! Mists fill the room. Glasses rattle as though shaken by sullen 
thunder. Sighs seem caught among the curtains. Scarf falls from the 
shoulder of beauty, — a shroud! Lights loiver ! Over the slippery boards, in 
dance of death, glide jealousies, disappointments, lust, despair. Torn 
leaves and withered garlands only half hide the ulcered feet. The stench 
of smoking lamp-wicks almost quenched. Choking damps. Chilliness. 
Feet still. Hands folded. Eyes shut. Voices hushed. 

Lights out. — Talmage. 



FASHION— RIGHT AND WRONG. 

GOD is a lover of dress. He has put robes of beauty and glory upon 
all His works. Who can doubt that He will smile upon the evidence 
of correct taste manifested by His children ? 

No man can afford to disregard appearances. The shabby man loses 
every year a thousand times the cost of a good suit of clothes. Employers 

13 



204 THE SOCIAL LIFE. 



like their people to dress well. It is easier to borrow a hundred dollars in 
a good suit of clothes than ten cents in an old coat and shabby hat. " The 
apparel oft proclaims the man." Dress is the visible sign by which the 
stranger forms his opinion of us. Dress affects a man's manners and 
morals. A general negligence of dress very often proclaims a corresponding 
negligence of address. We can scarcely lose self-respect so long as we have 
respect to appearances. Still, many of the best coats are worn on the 
backs of pitiful-salaried, dapper dandies, broken-down merchants and men 
who avoid their tailor because of moral mortgages on their clothes. 
Polonius's advice is good : 

" Costly thy habit, as thy purse can buy, 
But not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy." 

No true woman will be indifferent to her appearance. Elegance fits 
woman. The love of beauty in dress belongs to her. She ought to take a 
pride in herself, and be solicitous to have all her belongings well chosen 
and in good taste. A sloven is abominable. Rudeness is sin. 

Female loveliness appears to best advantage when set off by 
simplicity of dress. A woman is best dressed who so conducts herself that 
those who have been in her company shall not recollect what she had on. 

I have no sympathy with the " dress reformers," who glory in their 
outlandish apparel, and who are more proud of being " out of fashion," 
than others of being in. 

To love dress is not to be a slave of fashion ; to give dress your first 
thought, your best time, or all your money, is the evidence of such slavery. 
The Bible says the body is more than raiment. But many people read the 
Bible Hebrew-wise, backward, and thus the general conviction now is that 
raiment is more than the body. 

TYRANNY OF FASHION. 

Fashion tyrannically rules the world. She pinches the feet with 
tight shoes, or squeezes the breath out of the body by tight lacing. 

To be " in the fashion," has made the most famous frauds of the day, 
and keeps hundreds of men struggling for their commercial existence. 

Fashion dwarfs the intellect. Virtue gives up the ghost at her smile. 

Fashion is the greatest of all liars. She has made society insincere. 
She has turned society into a great show-room. She has made the poor 
poorer, and the rich more avaricious. 

Fashion is Philadelphia's leading undertaker, and drives hundreds of 
hearses to Laurel Hill. 






^THE SOCIAL LIFE. 205 

Dress is a lower beauty for which the higher beauty should not be 
sacrificed. The holiest duty is to wear the richest dress on the soul. 

Woman, with her strong and rich powers, her bold and daring genius, 
was made for a higher purpose, a r nobler use, a grander destiny, than to 
waste herself on the finified fooleries of fashion. Care more for what you 
are than what you appear. Let an empty brain, hollow heart, and useless 
life throw you into an hysterical fit, quicker than an old-fashioned bonnet or 

AN ILL-FITTING DRESS. 

Let not fashion close your eyes to the appeal of Christ's Church, and 
your eyes to the outstretched hand of His poor. 

Let not fashion demand of you a style of dress insufficient to keep 
out the cold and rain, and that will imperil your health. " What ! know ye 
not that your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost which is in you, which 
you have of God, and ye are not your own?" 

Submit to no style which will compromise your modesty. Wear no 
costume which suggests impure thought to the, beholder. 

It is' the instinctive propensity in human nature to decorate, it is 
right to adorn yourself for your own eyes, for the eyes of your husband, if 
you are a true wife ; if you are a maiden, for the eyes of suitors and 
companions, but first of all strive to adorn yourself for God's eye. " Whose 
adorning let it be the hidden man of the heart, in that which is not 
corruptible, even the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the 
sight of God of great price." 

"BEHAVIOR AND NOT GOLD IS THE ORNAMENT OF A WOMAN." 

It is worthy of remark that Plato, the loftiest of all the Grecian 
sages, has a passage which strikingly resembles that of the Apostle. 
" Behavior and not gold is the ornament of a woman. To the worldly 
these things, ornaments and jewels, are advantageous to their catching 
more admirers; but for a woman who wishes to enjoy the favor of one 
man, good behavior is its proper ornament, and not dresses; and you 
should have the blush upon your countenance, which is the sign of modesty, 
instead of paint; and worth and sobriety instead of gold and emeralds." 
Paul to Titus says: "That they may adorn the doctrine of God our 
Saviour in all things." Even the great truth of Jesus Christ is here 
represented as being susceptible of decoration on the part of those who 
profess it. Adorn the Gospel by useful lives. Say not that the doors of 
useful service are closed against you. On every hand there are hungry to 
feed, and naked to clothe, and many sick in the hospitals longing for the 
sound of woman's voice, and the touch of woman's hand. Fifty thousand 



ao6 THE SOCIAL LIFE. 



destitute children to be gathered from our streets into the Sunday-schools, 
and 100,000 adult heathen in our own city to be led to the Saviour. 

SILLY BUTTERFLIES. 

How much better to fill such a sphere to which God calls you than 
to flutter like silly butterflies round milliners, dressmakers and manicures. 

Live for Christ, and with the light and glory of a true womanhood, 
fill every day with usefulness as a June day fills the air with redolence of 
the roses. The busy Master might have, enthroned Himself in majestic 
repose, but His unwearied going about doing good was a withering rebuke 
to uselessness. He honored the useful in the fowls of the air, and in the 
lilies of the field, but the barren tree He smote with a curse. He closed 
the bright gates of His Kingdom in the face of the virgins who preferred 
indolence and sleep to duty, and the man who wrapped up his gifts in a 
napkin He sent away to the darkness. 

O, you were made for a better companionship than of those of whom 
it is said : 

" Their only labor is to kill time, 

And labor dire it is, and weary woe, 
They sit, they loll, turn o'er some idle rhyme, 
Or saunter forth with tottering step and slow." 

LIFE IS A GREAT GIFT OF GOD. 

Life is not a toy to be played with, a doll to be dressed, an ornament 
to exhibit, not a bubble to float in the air, nor an insect to dance on the 
wave, until some wind overtake it ; it is not to be a low or dreamy indul- 
gence, not a plague that wastes. Life is a great gift of God, a single 
opportunity with possibilities vast enough to fill time and eternity with the 
beatitudes of God, the joy of angels and praise of men. Goethe said : " To 
be useful, that is life." To be useful ! How noble, how vast, how sublime, 
how Christlike. Henceforth, let your life be such as the poet sings : 

" I live for those that love me, 

For those that know me true, 
For the Heaven that smiles above me, 

And waits my coming too. 
For the cause that lacks assistance, 
For the wrongs that need resistance, 
For the future in the distance, 

For the good that I can do." 



THE SOCIAL LIFE. 207 



TRIFLES. 

IN the formation and growth of your character it is of greatest importance 
that you look well to what some are wont to call trifles. 

The mighty avalanche is formed of stars of crystal, of flakes of snow, 
which a sunbeam's point might melt, or the breath of a summer zephyr 
bear away, but in its completeness there is a fearful mastery in it. So, 
little faults may become a monster to destroy, or a tyrant to enslave. And 
so, too, the smallest excellencies may round into a fabric of beauty, good 
enough to enshrine the image of God. 

Of bits of virtue mingled with tints of grace, of thoughts of purity 
and deeds of kindliness and love, quickened with impulse of reverence and 
duty, of silent purposes thrilled with self-denial and matured by quiet 
triumphs, it is thus, as the deep stream flows on, that human character is 
well laid, and girded for the noblest achievements and rewards of life. 
The importance of setting a keen vigilance in youth upon every fault, and 
of giving a prompt acceptance to every least virtue, cannot be overestimated. 
Now is the time to master what menaces, and to adopt and cultivate what 
promises. You can do either now with comparative ease ; but if you defer, 
your arm will prove too short after awhile to reach up to the good and 
beautiful on the one hand, and too weak on the other to rend the chain 
that binds you. When the avalanche is piled and has once set out on its 
thundering way, who can stay its sweep or avert its desolation ? 

There is a wonderful accumulation in good or ill, for good or ill, in 
the time to come. 

But it is not sufficient that faults be exposed and perils be pointed 
out, nor yet that the mastery and beauty of noble character be commended; 
you must resolve to meet and conquer the one, and own and attain the 
other. We never overcome the least evil, nor attain to the least virtue 
without the conscious exercise of the personal will. 

No matter what gifts you may possess, no matter what disposition 
to excellence you may inherit, no matter what advantages are placed in 
your hand, you will be successful in achieving a noble character only by 
making it a high purpose of the soul. — M. Rhodes. 



THE PHYSICAL EDUCATION OF WOMAN. 

1AM well aware that in some instances great care is given to the proper 
development of the body, and a few schools include physical education 
in the course, but still the tendency to give too slight an emphasis to this 
very important part of female education and to crowd young womei? beyond 



2o8 THE SOCIAL LIFE. 

physical endurance, that a prescribed course may be gone through within a 
given time, is an evil by far too general. What we have need to aim at 
more is symmetrical education. The body is just as much God's gift as the 
mind, and it is just as wicked to abuse one as the other: these are so related 
that the one can not be healthy and vigorous when the other is neglected 
and allowed to fall into weakness and pain. They are both governed by 
law ; and it is sad to see a young woman cultivate her mind at the expense 
of her body, and all the sadder when we remember that without health her 
mental acquisitions may avail but little. Some one has said : " Intellect in 
an enfeebled body is like gold in a spent swimmer's pocket — it only makes 
him sink the sooner." 

EDUCATION MUST ALWAYS BE FAULTY WHEN IT LACKS 

proportion. No man builds up the handsome front of his house first and alone, 
but, with a good foundation first, the four walls are all carried up together. 
There is much education that looks only to the ornamental front ; we want 
to raise aloft the glowing dome before there are any strong pillars on which 
it can rest; we reverse Nature's order, and cultivate the top of the tree 
without regard to roots and trunk and branch, and when we are done the 
whole is a withered thing without beauty and bloom. 

Mr. Smiles says: "Cultivate the physical exclusively, and you have 
an athlete or a savage ; the moral only, and you have an enthusiast or a 
maniac ; the intellectual only, and you have a diseased oddity — it may be a 
monster." It is only by wisely training all three together that we get the 
best type of manhood or womanhood. This is often forgotten — often by 
the teacher, as well as by the student — and the result is disastrous in all the 
relations of life. 

WOMEN ARE TO BE EDUCATED AS WOMEN. 

I believe women are to be educated as women, and not as men. I 
do not believe that women are inferior in mind to men — in some respects 
they are superior, but I do know that her body is not masculine, if her 
notions and ways sometimes are, and she can not endure the same amount 
of physical wear in mental effort with the other sex, nor is it necessary she 
should. It is a dear-won prize to secure equality with men, as it is called, 
and to outrival them in the school or college, if the poor girl has given 
away the bloom on her cheek to gratify her own and her mother's pride, or 
to satisfy the notion of some strong-minded one that has spoken more 
glibly than wisely. 

Let woman have every advantage, all the culture which her own 
peculiar organization can endure, let her become scholarly to the fullest 



THE SOCIAL LIFE. 209 

possible extent, and weave her name if she can with the learning of the 
ages ; but let there be no effort to push the anemone forward into the oak, 
"nor turn the dove out to wrestle with storms and winds under the idea 
that she may just as well be an eagle as a dove." 

What is demanded is that physical education be no longer over- 
looked ; that it be not entirely left even to parents and pupils ; but that it 
be included in our systems of culture, and that it become just as definite a 
purpose, and just as arbitrary a condition of the course of study, as the 
mastery of English grammar or any other branch of knowledge. Never 
until then will the truth of that wholesome adage : "A sound mind in a 
sound body," be illustrated as it merits, and as it may be, in the young 
women of the land. 

IMPRUDENT HABITS OF LIFE. 

Young ladies, do not forget that perhaps, after all, you have most to 
do in this important matter. You can baffle and render ineffectual any 
rules that may be adopted for your physical advantage, and by imprudent 
habits of life, of custom and fashion, by a love of the follies of society, and 
a rash gratification of ambition and pride, you may join the large company of 
your own class who are hastening their own steps to an early grave. I charge 
it upon you to take care of your health, do every right thing to develop, to 
educate your physical being into grace and strength. I believe that the 
great want of many young women to-day, for happiness, for usefulness, and 
especially for health, is some suitable work. The idea that is growing, that 
our daughters are to be reared and educated to do nothing, actually to 
scorn work, is an evil that merits reprobation. Care is like rust on the 
polished blade, but prudent, useful work is to the human body what the 
sun and showers of spring are to the flowers. 

I say to you, young ladies, if you would develop your physical form 
into vigor and beauty, you can do it by becoming work in such a way as 
will put the blush upon all pretensions of art and elegance. — Life Thoughts. 



HEARTLESSNESS OF FASHION. 

THERE is a set of people whom I can not bear — the pinks of fashionable 
propriety — whose every word is precise, and whose every movement 
is unexceptionable ; but who, though versed in all the categories of polite 
behavior, have not a particle of soul or cordiality about them. We allow 
that their manners may be abundantly correct. There may be elegance in 
every gesture, and gracefulness in every position ; not a smile out of place, 



THE SOCIAL LIFE, 



and not a step that would not bear the measurement of the severest 
scrutiny. This is all very fine ; but what I want is the heart and gayety of 
social intercourse ; the frankness that spreads ease and animation around 
it, the eye that speaks affability to all, that chases timidity from every 
bosom, and tells every man in the company to be confident and happy. — 
Chalmers. 



WOMAN AND DRESS. 

ONE of the Fathers of the Church defined woman as " a clothes-wearing- 
animal — a clothes-loving creature." When we see how a man 
regards money and deals with it we see much of his character, and in the 
same way when we have found out how a girl or woman feels and acts 
about clothes we have got a key to her nature and history. " I bless Eve 
for eating that apple," said a young lady the other day, as she stood before 
the mirror. " Why ?" asked a companion. " Because there is * such a 
delight in trying on a dress that fits well." This young lady belonged to 
that class of women to whom clothes are the object of life. The first 
question this sort of woman asks about any public event is, " What did the 
ladies wear ?" ' and in any crisis in her own life her greatest anxiety is, 
" What shall I put on ?" She seems to be of the opinion that it is the 
clothes that make the woman, and not the woman the clothes. The tight- 
laced, befiounced, be-trained damsel proclaims to the world her utter 
unwomanliness. The nursery would soon make a havoc of her finery. Let 
us hope she would never carry it into a sick-room, and in the kitchen it 
would be a nuisance and a bad example. 

A doctor has been found at last who has a good word to say even for 
tight-lacing. He thinks that tight-lacing is a public benefit, because it 
kills off the foolish girls and leaves the wise ones to grow into women. — 
Five Talents of Woman. 



SELF-CULTURE. 

MAKE the best of yourself. Watch, and plant, and sow. Cultivate! 
Cultivate! Falter not, faint not! Press onward! Persevere! Perhaps 
you can not bear such lordly fruit, nor yet such rare, rich flowers as others ; 
but what of that? Bear the best you can. 'Tis all God asks. 

Your flowers may only be the daisies and buttercups of life — the 
little words, and smiles, and handshakes, and helpful looks, but we love 
these flowers full well. We may stop to look at a tulip's gorgeous colors 



THE SOCIAL LIFE, 



and admire the creamy whiteness of a noble lily, but it is to the little 
flowers we turn with tenderest thought. We watch for snowdrops with 
longing eyes, and scent the fragrance of the violet with a keen delight. So 
let your life grow sweet-scented with all pleasant thoughts and gentle words 
and kindly deeds. 



THE MODEL WOMAN. 

[KNOW a woman wondrous fair — 
A model woman she — 
Who never runs her neighbors down 
When she goes out to tea. 

She never gossips after church; 

Of dresses or of hats ; 
She never meets the sewing-school 

And joins them in their spats. 

She never beats a salesman down, 

Nor asks for pretty plaques ; 
She never asks the thousand things 

Which do his patience tax. 

These statements may seem very strange — 

At least they may to some. 
But just remember this, my friends — 

This woman's deaf and dumb. 

— A Wisely Anonymous Man. 



DEBT. 

OF what a hideous progeny of ill is debt the father ! What meanness, 
what invasions of self-respect, what cares, what double-dealing! 
How in due season it will carve the frank open face into wrinkles ; how like 
a knife it will stab the honest heart ; and then its transformations ! How it 
has been known to change a goodly face into a mask of brass ; how with 
the evil custom of debt has the true man become a callous trickster ! A 
freedom from debt and what nourishing sweetness may be found in cold 
water; what toothsomeness in a dry crust; what ambrosial nourishment in 
a hard eggl Be sure of it, he who dines out of debt, though his meal be a 
biscuit and an onion, dines in a banquet hall. And then, for raiment, what 



THE SOCIAL LIFE. 



warmth in a threadbare coat, if the tailor's receipt be in your pocket! 
What Tyrian purple in the faded waistcoast, the vest not owed for ; how 
glossy the well-worn hat, if it covers not the aching head of a debtor! 
Next the home sweets, the out-door recreation of the free man. The 
ringing of the door-bell, or a footfall on the staircase, though he lives 
on the third floor, sends no spasms through his anatomy ; at the rap on his 
door he can crow, " Come in," and his pulse still beats healthfully, his heart 
sinks not in his bowels. See him abroad! How he returns look for look 
with any passenger ; how he saunters; now meeting an acquaintance he 
stands and gossips, but then this man knows no debt; debt that casts a 
drug in the richest wine ; that makes the food of the gods unwholesome, 
indigestible; that sprinkles the banquets of a Lucullus with ashes, and 
drops soot in the soup of an emperor; 

DEBT, THAT, LIKE THE MOTH, MAKES 

valueless furs and velvets, inclosing the wearer in a festering prison (the 
shirt of Nessus was a shirt not paid for) ; debt that writes upon frescoed 
halls the handwriting of the attorney ; that puts a voice of terror in the 
knocker; that makes the heart quake at the haunted fireside; debt, the 
invisible demon that walks abroad with a man, now quickening his steps, 
now making him look on all sides like a hunted beast, and now bringing to 
his face the ashy hue of death as the unconscious passenger glances 
upon him! Poverty is a bitter draught, yet may, and sometimes can, 
with advantage, be gulped down. Though the drinker makes wry faces, 
there may, after all, be a wholesome goodness in the cup. But debt, 
however courteously it may be offered, is the cup of the siren ; and the wine, 
spiced and delicious, though it be, is poison. The man out of debt, though 
with a flaw in his jerkin, a crack in his shoe leather, and a hole in his hat, is 
still the son of liberty, free as the singing lark above him ; but the debtor, 
although clothed in the utmost bravery, what is he but a serf out upon a 
holiday — a slave to be reclaimed at any instant by his owner, the creditor? 
My son, if poor, see Hyson in the running spring; see thy mouth water at 
a last week's roll ; think a threadbare coat the only wear ; and acknowledge 
a whitewashed garret the fittest housing place for a gentleman ; do this, 
and flee debt. So shall thy heart be at rest, and the sheriff confounded. 
— Douglas J err old. 



A contented mind is worth more than all the treasures of the 
Indies ; and he that is master of himself in an innocent and homely retreat, 
enjoys the wealth and curiosities of the universe. 



THE SOCIAL LIFE. 213 



SWEETNESS OF MANNERS. 



(* \ li J OMAN'S fineness," says Jeremy Taylor, "is sweetness of manners." 
V Y It is narrated of the great sculptor, Michael Angelo, that when 
at work he wore over his forehead, fastened to his artist's cap, a lighted 
candle, in order that no shadow of himself might fall on his work. It was 
a beautiful habit, and one that taught an eloquent lesson, for the shadows 
that fall on our work — how often they fall from ourselves! — Manners 
Makyth Man. 



SAYING RUDE THINGS. 

THE habit of saying rude things, of running people down, springs not so 
much from ill-nature as from that vanity that would rather lose a 
friend than a joke. On this point Dr. Johnson once remarked: "Sir, a man 
has no more right to say an uncivil thing than to act one — no more right to 
say a rude thing to another than to knock him down." 

It is said that the ancient kings of Egypt used to commence speeches 
to their subjects with this formula: "By the head of Pharaoh, ye are all 
swine!" We need not wonder that those who take this swine-theory view 
of their neighbors should be careless of setting their tastes and feelings at 
defiance. Contrast such puppyism with the conduct of David Ancillon, a 
famous Huguenot preacher, one of whose motives for studying his sermons 
with the greatest care was, "that it was showing too little esteem for the 
public to take no pains in preparation, and that a man who should appear 
on a ceremonial day in his night cap and dressing-gown could not commit 
a greater breach of civility." 

"Spite and ill-nature are among the most expensive luxuries of life," 
for none of us can afford to surround ourselves with the host of enemies we 
are sure to make if we allow ill-nature to produce in us unmannerly 
habits. 

Surly natures often prevent us from entertaining angels unawares. — 
Manners Makyth Man. 



IF WE KNEW. 



[F we knew when walking thoughtless 
In the noisy, crowded way, 
That some pearl of wondrous whiteness 
Close beside our pathway lay, 



2i 4 THE SOCIAL LIFE. 

We would pause where now we hasten, 
We would often look around, 

Lest our careless feet should trample 
Some rare jewel to the ground. 

If we knew what forms were fainting 

For the shade that we should fling ; 
If we knew what lips are parching 

For the water we could bring, 
We would haste with eager footsteps, 

We would work with willing hands, 
Bearing cups of cooling water,. 

Planting rows of shading palms. 

If we knew, when friends around us 

Closely press to say good-by, 
Which among the lips that kissed us 

First would 'neath the daisies lie, 
We would clasp our arms around them, 

Looking on them through our tears ; 
Tender words of love eternal 

We would whisper in their ears. 

If we knew what lives are darkened 

By some thoughtless word of ours, 
Which had ever lain among them 

Like the frost among the flowers ; 
Oh, with what sincere repentings, 

With what anguish of regret, 
While our eyes were overflowing, 

We would cry, " Forgive ! forget ! " 

If we knew ! Alas ! and do we 

Ever care or seek to know 
Whether bitter herbs or roses 

In our neighbor's garden grow ? 
God forgive us ! lest hereafter 

Our hearts break to hear Him say: 
" Careless child, I never knew you — 

From my presence flee away." 



THE SOCIAL LIFE. 215 

TRUE POLITENESS. 

NOW, as to politeness, many have attempted its definition. I believe it 
is best to be known by description; definition not being able to 
comprise it. I would, however, venture to call it benevolence in trifles, or 
the preference of others to ourselves, in little daily, hourly occurrences in 
the commerce of life. A better place, a more commodious seat, priority in 
being helped at table ; what is it but sacrificing ourselves in such trifles to 
the convenience and pleasure of others? And this constitutes true polite- 
ness. It is a perpetual attention (by habit it grows easy and natural to us) 
to the little wants of those we are with, by which we either prevent or 
remove them. Bowing, ceremonies, formal compliments, stiff civilities will 
never be politeness ; that must be easy, natural, unstudied, manly, noble. 
And what will give this but a mind benevolent and perpetually attentive to 
exert that amiable disposition in trifles towards all you converse and live 
with. Benevolence in great matters takes a higher name, and is the Queen 
of Virtue. — Lord Chatham. 



BOOKS. 



IN the best books, great men talk to us, give us their most precious 
thoughts, and pour their souls into ours. God be thanked for books! 
They are the voices of the distant and the dead, and make us heirs of the 
spiritual life of past ages. Books are the true levellers. They give to all 
who will faithfully use them the society, the spiritual presence, of the best 
and greatest of our race. No matter how poor I am — no matter though 
the prosperous of my own time will not enter my obscure dwelling — if the 
sacred writers will enter and take up their abode under my roof, if Milton 
will cross my threshold to sing to me of Paradise, and Shakespeare to open 
to me the worlds of imagination and the workings of the human heart, and 
Franklin to enrich me with his practical wisdom — I shall not pine for 
want of intellectual companionship, and I may become a cultivated man, 
though excluded from what is called the best society in the place where I 
live. 

ORIGIN OF SCANDAL. 

SAID Mrs. A. 
To Mrs. J. 
In quite a confidential way, 
" It seems to me 
That Mrs. B. 
Takes too much something in her tea," 



216 THE SOCIAL LIFE. 

And Mrs. J. 

To Mrs. K. 
That very night was heard to say- 
She grieved to touch 

Upon it much, 
But "Mrs. B. took — such and such!" 

Then Mrs. C. 

Went straight away 

And told a friend the self-same day, 

" 'Twas sad to think " — 

Here came a wink — 
"That Mrs. B. was fond of drink." 

The friend's disgust 

Was such she must 
Inform a lady " which she nussed," 
"That Mrs. B. 

At half-past three, 
Was that far gone she couldn't see." 

This lady we 

Have mentioned, she 
Gave needle-work to Mrs. B., 

And at such news 

Could scarcely choose 
But future needle-work refuse. 

Then Mrs. B., 

As you'll agree, 
Quite properly — she said, said she, 

That she would track 

The scandal back 
To those who made her look so black. 

Through Mrs. K. 

And Mrs. J. 
She got at last to Mrs. A., 

And asked her why, 

With cruel lie, 
She painted her so deep a dye. 

Said Mrs. A. 

In some dismay, 
" I no such thing could ever say : 

I said that you 

Much stouter grew 
On too much sugar — which you do." — The Argonaut. 



THE SOCIAL LIFE. 



THE BIZZY BODY. 

I DON'T mean the industrious man, intent, and constant in the way of 
duty, but he who, like a hen, tired ov setting-, cums clucking- oph from 
the nest in a grate hurry, and full ov sputter, az fat spilt on the fire, 
scratching a little here, and suddenly a little thare, chuck full ov small 
things, like a rich cheese, up and down the streets, wagging around every 
boddy, like a lorst dorg, in and out like a long-tailed mouse, az full ov 
bizzness az a pissmire, just before a hard shower, more questions tew ask 
than a prosekuting attorney, az fat with pertikulars, az an inditement for 
hog stealing, az knowing az a tin weathercock. 

This breed ov folks do a small bizzness on a big capital, they alwus 
know all the sekrets within ten miles, that aint worth keeping, they are a 
bundle ov faggot fakts, and kan tell which sow in the neighborhood haz got 
the most pigs, and what Squire Banson got for marrying hiz last couple. 

All ov this iz the result ov not knowing how tew use a few brains tew 
advantage, if they only knew a little less they would be fools, and a little 
more would enable them tew tend a fresh lettered sineboard, with credit to 
themselfs, and not confusion to the travellers. 

The bizzy body iz az full ov leizure az a yearling heifer, hiz time, 
nor noboddy else's aint worth nothing to him, he will button hole an 
auctioneer on the block, or a minister in the pulpit, and wouldn't hesitate 
tew stop a phuneral procession tew ask what the corpse died ov. They are 
az familiar with every boddy az a cockroach, but are no more use tew you, 
az a friend, than a sucked orange. 

Theze bizzy people are awl genders — maskuline, feminine and nuter, 
and sometimes are old maids, and them are az necessary in a community az 
dried herbs in the garret. One bizzy old maid, who enjoys her vittles, and dont 
keep a lot ov tame kats for stiddy employment, iz worth more than a daily 
paper, she iz better than the " Cook's Own Book," or a volume ov household 
receipts, and works harder and makes more trips a day than a railroad hoss 
on the Third avenue cars. 

The bizzy body iz generally az free from malice az a fly, he lights on 
you only for a roost, but iz always az unprofitable tew know, or tew hav 
ennything tew do with, az a jewelry peddlar. 

Thare are sum ov the bizzy folks who are like the hornets — never bizzy 
only with their stings. These are vipers, and are tew be feared, not trifled 
with, but my bizzy body haz no gaul in his liver, his whole karackter iz his 
face, and he iz az eazy to inventory az the baggage ov a travelling colporter. 

They are a cheerful, moderately virtuous, extremely patient, modestly 
impudent, ginger-pop set ov vagrants, who hav got more legges than brains, 



218 THE SOCIAL LIFE. 



and whose really greatest sin iz not their waste ov facultys, but ov time. 
But time, tew one ov these fellows, flies az unconscious az it duz tew a tin 
watch in a toy shop window. 

They are welcomed, not bekause they are necessary, but bekause 
they aint feared, and are soon dropt, like peanut shells, on the floor. 

There iz no radikal cure for the bizzy body, no more than there iz for 
fleas in a long-haired dorg —if you git rid ov the fleas yu hav got the dorg 
left, and if yu git rid of the dorg yu hav got the fleas left, and so, whare are 
you? 

Bizzyness and bissness are two different things, altho they pronounce 
out loud similar. 

But after all i don't want tew git shut ov the bizzy-people, they are a 
noosance for a small amount, but sumboddy haz got tew be a noosance, and 
being aktive about nothing, and energetically lazy, iz no doubt a virtuous 
dodge, but iz 10 per cent better than counterfitting, or even the grand 
laceny bizzness. There iz one thing about them, they are seldom 
deceitful, they trade on a floating capital, and only deal in second hand 
articles, they haint got the tallent to invent, they seldom lie, bekause their 
bizzness don't require it, thare is stale truth enuff lieing around loose for 
their purpose. Don't trust them only with what yu want tew hav scattered, 
they will find a ready market for every thing that a prudent man would 
hesitate tew offer, and they always suppozed they are learned, for they 
mistake rumors, skandals, and gossip for wisdom. 

It iz a sad sight to see a whole life being swopped off for the glory 
ov telling what good people don't love tew hear, and what vicious ones only 
value for the malice it contains. I should rather be the keeper ov a 
rat pit, or ketch kats for a shilling a heid to feed an anaconda with. — Josh 
Billings. 



INTEMPERANCE IN TALKING. 

AMONG the many kinds of intemperance to which men are addicted, 
intemperate talking is not the rarest. Those who are its victims are 
seldom happy when not listening to the sound of their own voices. When 
others are speaking, and they are forced by the constraint of social laws to 
be silent, they are watching so eagerly for the time when their turn will 
come, that they only catch imperfectly the meaning of what is said around 
them; consequently, what they reply is often so irrelevant to the general 
conversation as to cause a smile of surprise. But they are seldom abashed, 
and having once secured the floor, they will keep it as long as their own 



THE SOCIAL LIFE. 219 

breath and others' patience will hold out. It is curious to note the 
complicated efforts they will make to regain it whenever lost. Sometimes 
they will answer a question addressed to another, or hasten to correct some 
unimportant statement, or to supplement it with some experience of their 
own, or they will ask a question and proceed to answer it themselves, or in 
some other way continue to pursue the stream of talk which had for a time 
been diverted from them. 

- THE TWO ENDS OF CONVERSATION. 

It might seem that the only two ends of conversation were to hear 
and to be heard, and if neither of these were accomplished it would be at an 
end. Yet such people sacrifice them both. They certainly do not hear in 
any true sense of the word ; they are far too much absorbed in their own 
voices to listen with attention to those of others. Neither, after a short 
time, are they heard. They become so wearisome that the listeners, one 
after another, retire as speedily as politeness will allow, and are careful to 
avoid being caught in the same net in future. Thus they must meet with 
repeated disappointments, yet they persevere, and continue to afflict every 
one who is not forewarned, or who can not easily escape. 

THE CAREFUL THINKER AND LISTENER. 

It is not only the quantity but the inferior quality of such outpourings 
that make them so distasteful. Indeed, the one follows as a necessity from 
the other. The careful thinker and listener finds so much to moderate his 
preconceived ideas, so much to correct in them, sometimes so much reason 
to change them, that he is in no hurry to give voice to them in their 
present callow form. He often prefers to wait for more light, and when he 
does speak, it is modestly and, perhaps, rather in the tone of inquiry than 
of assertion. In fact, he finds it needful to have something to say that is 
worth the utterance, before he proceeds to take any large share in the 
conversation. But our loquacious friends have no such scruples. The less 
they think, the more they talk. Their stream of discourse, shallow as it is, 
pours forth continuously and noisily, while the deep waters of the thoughtful 
soul are comparatively still. 

Of course, they must constantly repeat themselves. No one, however 
gifted, can always have something fresh and new at command ; and these 
persons can seldom boast of special gifts. If they but knew how truly 
Homer speaks for all intelligent listeners, when he says : 

" I hate vain repetitions, fondly made, 
Of what has been already plainly said," 

they would at least, in this respect, endeavor to curb their loquacity. 
14 



THE SOCIAL LIFE. 



Perhaps, however, of all the evils which result from this weakness, 
none are more disastrous than those which ensue from the frequent 
utterance of what ought never to pass the lips. It is hard for the 
loquacious man to avoid the sin of gossip, or perchance, of slander. Not 
defining his thoughts or weighing his words, he falls unco'nsciously into a 
habit of loose criticism, which injures many a reputation and afflicts many 
an innocent life. If there be one supreme moment when silence is golden, 
it is when the faults and foibles of our neighbors rise up in our minds. 
Then, too, there are secrets which should never pass the lips, but which the 
loquacious man pours out freely to those who will listen. Plutarch tells us 
of a day when Rome would have been liberated from the tyranny of Nero, 
had it not been for the tongue of a single garrulous man, who divulged the 
secret. A secret, shared first by one friend and then by another, soon 
becomes common rumor. But, in truth, it is not real friendship which 
draws forth the secret which should be forever buried in the heart of him 
to whom it has been trusted. It is frequently only the love of talking and 
the idle desire to excite surprise or wonder in equally idle listeners. We 
all despise one who can be bribed to reveal what has been confided to him ; 
what shall we say of one who, without any other temptation than his own 
garrulity, falls into the same snare ? 

THE SPHERE OF SILENCE. 

Mr. Martineau, in speaking of the sphere of silence, says that there 
are things too low and also things too high to be made the subjects of 
common speech. The appetites and the interior impulses of man need 
provision, but do not bear much discussion ; while " men in deep reverence 
do not talk to one another, but remain with hushed mind side by side. 
Language occupies the mid-region between the wants that ground us on 
the earth and the affections that lift us to the skies." But the loquacious 
man respects neither of these extremes. Nothing to him is too private or 
too sacred to be the theme of his ready tongue and his voluble speech. Let 
him who is conscious of this weakness muse on its many evils, and 
remember that " in the multitude of words there wanteth not sin, but he 
that refraineth his lips is wise." 



FLATTERY AND CHURLISHNESS. 

A CHAMELEON once met a Porcupine, and complained that he had 
taken great pains to make friends with everybody; but, strange to 
say, he had entirely failed, and could not now be sure that he had a friend 
in the world. "And by what means," said the Porcupine, "have you sought 




^\)<t 6®Gjueffe. 



THE SOCIAL LIFE. 223 



to make friends?" "By flattery," said the Chameleon. "I have adapted 
myself to all I met; humored the follies and foibles of every one. In order 
to make people believe that I liked them, I have imitated their manners, as 
if I considered them models of perfection. So far have I gone in this, that 
it has become a habit with me ; and now my very skin takes the hue and 
complexion of the thing that happens to be nearest. Yet all this has been 
in vain, for everybody calls me a turn-coat, and I am generally considered 
selfish, hypocritical, and base." "And no doubt you deserve all this," said 
the Porcupine. " I have taken a different course ; but I must confess that I 
have as few friends as you. I adopted the rule to resent every injury, and 
every encroachment upon my dignity. I would allow no one even to touch 
me, without sticking into him one or more of my sharp quills. I determined 
to take care of number one ; and the result has been that, while I have 
vindicated my rights, I have created a universal dislike. I am called old 
' Touch-me-not;' and if I am not as much despised, I am even more disliked 
than you, Sir Chameleon." 



ENVY AND JEALOUSY. 

THE spirit of envy and jealousy comes down through the ages. Cain 
slew his brother at the instigation of envy. Because of envy Saul 
plotted for years to destroy David. For envy the Jews delivered our Lord 
to be crucified. Dionysius, the tyrant, out of envy punished Philoxenus, the 
musician, because he could sing, and Plato, the philosopher, because he 
could dispute better than himself. Caligula slew his brother because he 
was a beautiful young man. Cambyses killed his brother Smerdis because 
he could draw a stronger bow than himself or any of his party. Leonardo 
Da Vinci, whose fame at one time filled all Italy, after wandering from city 
to city, died at last in the court of Francis I, in France, a poor, miserable, 
broken-hearted man, because young Michael Angelo successfully competed 
with him in decorating the Council Hall of Florence. Jealousy among 
physicians, jealousy among lawyers, jealousy among preachers especially. 
The mere mention of a successful rival's name throws them into 
convulsions, and, like the cuttlefish, emit their black venom for the purpose 
of darkening the clear waters that surround their prosperous neighbor. 
The brightness and prosperity that surrounds others pains their eyes more 
than the meridian rays of the sun. It starts the involuntary tear, and casts 
a gloom over their minds, and brings into action revenge, falsehood, base 
" but " insinuations, slander, and the meanest passions of the fallen nature 
of man. The poets imagined that envy dwelt in a dark cave ; being pale 



224 THE SOCIAL LIFE. 

and lean, looking asquint, abounding with gall, her teeth black, never 
rejoicing but in the misfortunes of others; ever unquiet and careful, and 
continually tormenting herself. It is ever an element of misery, a burning 
coal, that comes hissing hot from hell. 

Don't groan whenever others- shout. Don't grow uncomfortable as 
others grow happy. Oh, let us stamp out forever from all our hearts this 
accursed spirit of envy and jealousy! Instead of fretting that others are 
preferred before us in honor, power, estate or interest ; in gifts, graces or 
usefulness, let us bless God for their influence. If others are better and 
more popular than we are, thank God that there is somebody better and 
more popular than we. What if they are wiser than we ? Thank God that 
there is one more star in the firmament above ourselves. What if they 
have the commendation of men, while we have the dry bitter root to chew ? 
Thank God that somewhere there is somebody that is not getting troubled 
as we are. There are tears and trials enough, and there are burdens and 
cares laid on those that are eminent quite enough to keep them humble. 
Let us not be angry at men's successes and greatness, because they rebuke 
our meanness and our littleness. Paul says, "Love envieth not." And 
judged by that test-note, a great deal of religion is spurious. 



TRUE FRIENDSHIP. 

DAMON was sentenced to die on a certain day, and sought permission of 
Dionysius of Syracuse to visit his family in the interim. It was 
granted on condition of securing a hostage for himself. Pythias heard of 
it, and volunteered to stand in his friend's place. The king visited him in 
prison, and conversed with him about the motive of his conduct ; affirming 
his disbelief in the influence of friendship. Pythias expressed his wish to 
die that his friend's honor might be vindicated. He prayed the gods to 
delay the return of Damon till after his own execution. The fatal day 
arrived. Dionysius sat on a moving throne, drawn by six white horses. 
Pythias mounted the scaffold, and calmly addressed the spectators ; " My 
prayer is heard ; the gods are propitious ; for the winds have been contrary 
till yesterday. Damon could not come ; he could not conquer impossibilities ; 
he will be here to-morrow, and the blood which is shed to-day shall have 
ransomed the life of my friend. Oh ! could I erase from your bosoms every 
mean suspicion of the honor of Damon, I should go to my death as I would 
to my bridal. My friend will be found noble, his truth unimpeachable ; he 
will speedily prove it ; . he is now on his way, accusing himself, the adverse 
elements, and the gods ; but I haste to prevent his speed. Executioner do 



THE SOCIAL LIFE. 225 

your office." As he closed, a voice in the distance cried, " Stop the 
execution !" which was repeated by the whole assembly. A man rode up at 
full speed, mounted the scaffold, and embraced Pythias, crying : " You are 
safe, my beloved friend ! I now have nothing but death to suffer, and am 
delivered from reproaches for having endangered a life so much dearer than 
my own." Pythias replied : " Fatal haste, cruel impatience ! What envious 
powers have wrought impossibilities in your favor ? But I will not be 
wholly disappointed. Since I can not die to save, I will not survive you." 
The king heard, and was moved to tears. Ascending the scaffold, he cried : 
" Live, live, ye incomparable pair ! Ye have borne unquestionable testimony 
to the existence of virtue ; and that virtue equally evinces the existence of 
a God to reward it. Live happy, live renowned, and oh ! form me by your 
precepts, as ye have invited me by your example, to be worthy of the 
participation of so sacred a friendship." 

If heathenism had such friendships, what may be expected of 
Christianity ? 



THE CYNIC. 



THE cynic is one who never sees a good quality in a man, and never 
fails to see a bad one. He is the human owl, vigilant in darkness and 
blind to light, mousing for vermin, and never seeing noble game. 

The cynic puts all human actions into only two classes — openly bad, 
and secretly bad. All virtue, and generosity, and disinterestedness, are 
merely the appearance of good, but selfish at the bottom. He holds that 
no man does a good thing except for profit. The effect of his conversation 
upon your feelings is to chill and sear them ; to send you away sour and 
morose. 

His criticisms and innuendoes fall indiscriminately upon every 
lovely thing, like frost upon the flowers. If Mr. A. is pronounced a 
religious man, he will reply: yes, on Sundays. Mr. B. has just joined the 
church: certainly; the elections are coming on. The minister of the 
Gospel is called an example of diligence : it is his trade. Such a man is 
generous: of other men's money. This man is obliging: to lull suspicion 
and cheat you. That man is upright : because he is green. 

Thus his eye strains out every gctod quality, and takes in only the 
bad. To him religion is hypocrisy, honesty a preparation for fraud, virtue 
only a want of opportunity, and undeniable purity, asceticism. The 
livelong day he will coolly sit with sneering lip, transfixing every character 
that is presented. 



226 • THE SOCIAL LIFE. 



It is impossible to indulge in such habitual severity of opinion upon 
our fellow-men, without injuring the tenderness and delicacy of our own 
feelings. A man will be what his most cherished feelings are. If he 
encourage a noble generosity, every feeling will be enriched by it; if he 
nurse bitter and envenomed thoughts, his own spirit will absorb the 
poison, and he will crawl among men as a burnished adder, whose life is 
mischief, and whose errand is death. 

He who hunts for flowers will find flowers ; and he who loves weeds 
may find weeds. 

Let it be remembered that no man, who is not himself morally 
diseased, will have a relish for disease in others. Reject then the morbid 
ambition of the cynic, or cease to call yourself a man. — H. W. Beecher. 



RECIPE FOR A MODERN NOVEL. 

STIR in a fool to make us laugh ; 
Two heavy villains and a-half ; 
A heroine with sheeny hair, 
And half a dozen beaux to spare ; 
A mystery upon the shore ; 
Some bloody foot-prints on a floor ; 

A shrewd detective chap, who mates 
Those foot-prints with the hero's eights, 
And makes it squally for that gent — 
Till he is proven innocent ; 
A brown-stone front; a dingle dell; 
Spice it with scandal ; stir it well ; 
Serve it up hot; — and the book will sell. 



THE NOVEL. 

NOVEL is a book 
Crammed full of poisonous error, blacking every page ; 
And oftener still of trifling, second-hand 
Remark, and old, diseased, putrid thought, 
And miserable incident' at war 
With nature ; with itself and truth at war : 
Yet charming still the greedy reader on, 
Till done, he tries to recollect his thought, 
And nothing finds but dreaming emptiness. — Pollock. 






THE SOCIAL LIFE. 227 

OUR BARBAROUS FUNERAL CUSTOMS. 

THERE is in England what they call a funeral reform. It is high time 
that we had such a reform in our own country. " Christian burial," 
falsely so called, is barbarous, irrational, gloomy, chilly, and despairing. 
Paul's glad music of victory over death and the grave, is muffled by the 
raven feathers of funereal plumes. The waving crape upon the door-knob, 
the darkened windows, the body shrouded and coffined in the color of 
gloom; women and children veiled and draped in hideous black; men's 
hats banded with crape; what hopelessness all these things express! 
They symbolize doubt, despair, 'agony, and gloom. They express no 
Christian comfort, breathe no heavenly consolation, suggest no immortal 
hope, inspire no sure confidence. In some places, crape-covered pet dogs 
and crape-mounted drivers are used to further emphasize these negations 
of Christian truth. 

MANY YOUNG WOMEN I HAVE HEARD COMPLAIN THAT THEY 

had to go into mourning, whose only compensation was, that it was 
becoming to them. We have "full mourning," "mourning jewelry," 
"mourning visiting-cards," "mourning stationery," but the ghastly humor 
of our barbarous mourning customs reaches its climax in "second 
mourning," followed by the full bloom of gorgeous colors, for the time 
appointed by the inexorable decree of fashionable society has passed, and 
now sorrow and weeping may be laid aside with the funereal garments. 
The depressing ensigns of death, fluttering from the windows, warning 
hope and joy from the household, are gradually passing away in Philadel- 
phia. In this city shutters can be seen closed for months and months, 
from basement to attic, even through the hottest season, as if, when death 
came, it banished from the house God's pure air and the bright sunshine of 
Heaven. 

MORE EXPENSIVE TO DIE THAN TO LIVE. 

Funerals are nowadays so expensive that it sometimes cost more to 
die than to live. Not long ago I was called to officiate at the funeral of a 
child, the parents were supported by charity, and the mother was almost 
hysterical because her child could not be laid out in a white coffin and 
carried to its last resting-place in a magnificent white hearse. It required 
the persuasion of friends to get her to consent to bury her child plainly, 
which was done by charity. Had they been able to meet the expenditure, 
it might have been well, but when it was known that they could not, it 
was not only false reverence and mistaken affection, it was downright 
dishonesty. 



228 THE SOCIAL LIFE. 

Many men have died solvent, but have been insolvent before they got 
under the ground. Physicians and undertakers are the most frequently 
swindled. You can reclaim unpaid-for goods, but if a man departs this life, 
and through his friends indulges expenditures that can not be met, there 
seems to be no relief, for the patient has gone off with the doctor's pills and 
the corpse with the undertaker's white slippers. There are families that 
you know who, in their efforts to meet the ridiculous, hideous, barbarous, 
outrageous, senseless, and wicked customs in regard to obsequies, have 
actually reduced themselves to penury; they put their last dollar in the 
ground. 

A SYMBOL OF CHRISTIAN LOVE AND HOPE. 

Flowers symbolize our human love and Christian hope, and while 
they are appropriate and beautiful at a Christian's funeral, yet do not keep 
your flowers for your dead friends. Let us strew them on the paths of life 
while weary feet are walking toward the grave. Would not the wives of 
many men be surprised could they lift their sealed eyes ! 

" When did you give her a flower before ! 
Ah ! well, what matter when all is o'er." 

Funeral sermons are often far from the truth. Generally the less 
good a man has done the more the preacher is expected to say of him. To 
hold the funerals of haters-of -churches in churches is wrong, it is trying to 
do for their bodies what they would not do for their souls. Furthermore, it 
seems like an injustice to the dead man, it seems like taking a mean 
advantage of a man after he is dead, to take him by force where he could 
not be persuaded to go when he was alive. The most sacred place in which 
to hold a funeral service is the quiet home. Brass bands at a funeral are 
unpardonable nuisances. Loud demonstrations should be avoided. Stillest 
waters are deepest. Sunday funerals are rarely necessary, they nearly 
always assume a magnitude that amounts to Sabbath desecration. The 
Lord's Day is for rest and Divine worship, and not for great funeral 
pageants. 

CHIPS FROM THE EDITOR'S WORKSHOP. 

THE best thing we can do with our tongues is to speak kindly of all 
men. Once in Jerusalem, 1,800 years ago, a great crowd was gathered, 
as the legend goes, around a dead dog, and they stood and looked, and one 
of them said: "That is the ugliest dog I ever saw." And another said : 
"Just see how crooked his legs are." And so they criticised the poor dead 



THE SOCIAL LIFE. 229 

dog, and directly one spoke up and said, "Ain't those the prettiest pearly- 
white teeth you ever looked at?" And they walked off and said : "That 
must have been Jesus of Nazareth that could have found something good 
to say about a dead dog." Don't you like those people who always see 
something good in people's ways and walks of life ? 

It is not the disposition of Christianity to stone our neighbor, even 
if at fault. Slander is a cancer in the soul that must be cut out, or burned 
out, or it will damn us. 

If the naughty things that some of you sneaking hypocrites have 
said about people in this house, who are as stainless as you are yourselves, 
were posted over this platform in legible words, you would immediately 
leave this house, and never be seen here again. 

Be not hasty to credit ill reports. They are often the result of 
misunderstanding, or of evil design, or envy and jealousy, or they proceed 
from an exaggerated and partial disclosure of the facts. Wait and learn 
the whole story before you decide, then believe just what evidence compels 
you, and no more. 

The clapper complained that the bell was cracked. "It is true," 
remarked a by-stander, " but you cracked it, and moreover it never would 
have been known but by you ; you proclaim everywhere that crack in the 
bell." Moral. — Keep your mouth shut. Be quick at work, and slow at 
talk. If your tongue is too long, cut it off, or season it with the salt of 
grace. 

As birds pick most at the best fruit, so the worthiest persons are 
often the most slandered. Oh, these violators of human character ! How 
few can say, "I have never spoken ill of man or woman." Slander would 
soon starve and die, if nobody took it in and gave it lodging. There are so 
many open mouths because there are so many open ears. If you listen to 
a slander, you are equally guilty with the one who tells ; and an old writer 
says, you ought both to be hung — the one by the tongue, the other by the 
ear. He who tells you the faults of others, intends to tell others your 
faults. 

If you carry torpedoes, and take pleasure in tossing them at people, 
if you love to out with disagreeable things, if you make beads of other's 



230 THE SOCIAL LIFE. 

faults, if you enjoy using- a story, false or true, in such a way as to injure a 
man or woman, you are infernal! 

Never employ yourself to discover the faults of others. Look to your 
own. Nobody is always consistent. If you look through a telescope in the 
usual way, it magnifies the object seen; but if you reverse it, it makes the 
large and near seem very small. Men often look at their own faults 
through one end, and at their neighbor's through the other. Dean Swift 
said : •" You had better find out one of your own faults than ten of your 
neighbor's." If you must mention a man's fault, speak of his counter- 
balancing excellencies. When any one was speaking ill of another in the 
presence of Peter the Great, he would shortly interrupt him and say: 
" Well, but has he not a bright side ? Come, tell me what you have noticed 
as excellent in him ! It is easy to splash mud ; but I would rather help a 
man to keep his coat clean." Whenever you catch yourself making a 
detracting remark, say something approving in the same breath and you 
will soon be cured. 

Business is business, but the best kind of business is to mind your 
own business, and the reason why those people succeed so well who mind 
their own business is because there is so little competition. Woman 
generally gets the credit for the gossiping business. It is said that when 
the Lord made man he gave him ten measures of speech, and that the 
woman ran away with nine of them. The Chinese say that a woman's 
sword is her tongue, and she never lets it rest. Many a woman's tongue is 
like an express train running along at the rate of forty miles an hour, 
pouring out its rain of sparks on every side and setting everything on fire. 
But justice compels me to say that the men are just as bad blabs as the 
women. Indeed, many women have gone out of the gossiping business, and 
babbling, tattling, sly-whispering and impertinent, meddling men have 
succeeded them, and are trespassing constantly on the community with their 
tongues. 

There is a sad propensity in our fallen nature to listen to the gossips 
and scandal-mongers. Without any intention of doing injury to a neighbor, 
a careless remark may be seized by a babbler, and, as a snow-ball grows by 
rolling it, so does a story by telling : it passes through the babbling tribe, 
growing larger and larger, and darker and darker, and by the time it has 
rolled through Babbletown, it has assumed the magnitude and blackness of 
base slander. 



THE SOCIAL LIFE. 231 

Especially is this true of the fair sex. An injurious rumor against a 
person of unblemished character, originating with some gossip, once 
attached to a person's name, will remain beside it in a blemish and doubt 
forever. Many a woman has melted like snow in the spring, shedding 
burning tears of sadness over man's unkindness, and woman's inhumanity 
to woman, which 

" Has made countless thousands mourn." 

Among many species of animals, if one of their number is wounded 
and falls, he is at once torn to pieces by his fellows. Traces of this animal 
cruelty are seen in men to-day, but especially in women. Let a woman fall 
from virtue, and nine-tenths of her sisters will turn and tear her to pieces, 
and the next day the man who robbed her of her virtue, broke her father's 
and her mother's hearts, and drove her to the street, will be smiled on and 
almost congratulated on his success, The cruelty of woman to woman is 
perfectly wolfish. Shame, oh, shame ! Reverse the action : loathing for the 
unrepentant wretch who accomplished her ruin, and tenderness for the 
wounded sister. 

Fault-finders are always small souled. The ignorant laugh, and 
ridicule, and criticise. True worth never exults in the faults of others. 
"Faults are always thick where love is thin." "A white cow is all black if 
your eyes choose to make it so." 

When an eminent painter was requested to paint Alexander the 
Great, so as to give a perfect likeness of him, he felt a difficulty. Alexander 
in his wars had been struck by a sword, and across his forehead was an 
immense scar. The painter said: "If I retain the scar, it will be an 
offence to the admirers of the monarch, and if I omit it, it will fail to be a 
perfect likeness. What shall I do ?" He hit upon a happy expedient, he 
represented the Emperor leaning on his elbow, with his forefinger upon his 
brow, accidentally, as it seemed, covering the scar on his forehead. So let 
us study to paint each other with the finger of charity upon the scar of a 
brother or a sister, hiding the ugly mark, and revealing only the beautiful, 
the true, and the good. 

A German proverb says: "Speech is silver; silence is gold." Carlyle 
says: "Silence is deep as eternity; speech is shallow as time." Denouncing 
the vapid verbiage of shallow praters, he again exclaims : " Even triviality 
and imbecility, that can be silent, how respectable are they in comparison!" 



232 THE SOCIAL LIFE. 

Cato says : " I think the first virtue is to restrain the tongue ; he approaches 
nearest the gods who knows how to be silent, even though he is in the 
right." He who knows when to keep his tongue still has a wise head. 
Yet as some one has said: "Silence is just as far from being wisdom as 
the rattle of an empty wagon is from being music." Many a man passes 
for wise simply because he is too big a fool to talk. 

The purest blood in the world is that of a Christian ancestry. The 
Bible all through makes much of family descent. The true aristocracy is 
the aristocracy of grace. Cowper manfully exclaims: 

" My boast is not that I deduce my birth 
From loins enthroned, the rulers of the earth ; 
But higher far my proud pretensions rise — 
The son of parents passed unto the skies." 

The conceited coxcomb, who talks disrespectfully of his parents, is 
ashamed to acknowledge his mother's prayers, and snaps his fingers at his 
father's instructions, is the silly fellow who invariably comes to a bad end. 
If you have come of a good stock, don't disgrace it. Keep up the noble 
succession — the only true succession— the line of saints. 



About the most painful thing to listen to is an affected young lady — 
drawling, and lisping, and chopping, and clipping her words. . If she could 
only see herself as others see her, she would then know what a simpleton 
she makes of herself. Some one has said : " Affectation is a greater enemy 
to the face than small-pox." 

Culture is the best antidote' for frivolity. We hear of dancing 
circles, etc. How many reading circles do the young women of high 
society maintain? Figures would present a sad commentary. Is it not 
sad that the feet should be educated at the expense of the head and heart? 

John Randolph's favorite maxim is a good one — " Pay as you go." 
If you can not pay, do not go. There are men in every community who 
live by a form of petty thieving — making small loans and incurring small 
bills which they never pay. Debt is a foe to a man's honesty. Live this 
month on what you earned last month, not on what you are going to earn 
next month. 



THE SOCIAL LIFE. 233 



To many people a thing that is cheap has a charming attractiveness. 
The cheap house is praised to the skies. I have a holy hatred for the word 
"cheap." It means cheap labor and dishonest work. It is a blood-stained 
tyrant. Think how cheap things become cheap, and you will be left 
comfortless ; your solace will become your sorrow. The bold figures in our 
windows, advertising cheap things, ought to be written in blood, and in 
God's sight are. How are prices forced down? By the wages of the 
workers being forced back. The purchaser says: "It is cheap." The 
workingman says : " It is death." God only knows how much buying on 
the cheap is responsible for fallen virtue. What is good is cheap at a good 
price. What is cheap is too dear at any price. What you can buy " dirt 
cheap" usually is dirt. And your advertised " great bargains" are usually 
"great sells." 

Purity precedes all spiritual attainment and progress. It is the 
letter "A" in the moral alphabet. However beautiful your face, and varied 
your attainments, and charming your social qualities, you are nothing 
without purity — only tinkling cymbals. An impure woman is an awful 
sight. She outrages all just ideas of womanhood, all proper conceptions of 
true beauty. A French author says: "Beauty unaccompanied by virtue is 
a flower without perfume." She is not beautiful, however complete on the 
outside, who is faulty and unsightly within. 

Dr. Fuller used to say that the heat of passion makes our souls to 
crack, and the devil creeps in at the crevices. 



Says Lord Bacon: "An angry man who suppresses his passions, 
thinks worse than he speaks; and an angry man that will chide, speaks 
worse than he thinks." 

Good-looking people are mostly people lacking good sense. They 
have an idea that they were made to be looked at, and often they are good 
for nothing else. " Handsome is as handsome does." 

It is said of Julius Caesar, that when provoked, he used to repeat the 
whole Roman alphabet before he suffered himself to speak. Thomas 
Jefferson said : " When angry, count ten before you speak ; if very angry, a 
hundred. Solomon said: "He that is slow to wrath is of great under- 
standing, but he that is hasty of spirit exalteth folly." 



234 THE SOCIAL LIFE. 

One of ./Esop's fables says that there was a Tortoise once that was 
very unhappy because he had no wings and could not fly. As he saw the 
eagles and other birds having a good time floating through the air, he said 
to himself: "O, if I only had wings as those birds have, so that I could rise 
up into the air and sail about there as they do, how happy I should be ! " 
One day, the fable says, he called to an Eagle and offered him a great 
reward if he would only teach him how to fly. " I never shall be happy," 
said the Tortoise, " till I get wings and fly about the air as you do." The 
Eagle told him he had no wings to give him, and did not know how to 
teach him to fly. But the Tortoise pressed him so earnestly, and made him 
so many promises, that finally the Eagle said: "Well, I'll try what I can 
do. You get on my back and I'll carry you up in the air, and we'll see what 
can be done." 

So the Tortoise got on the back of the Eagle. Then the Eagle spread 
out his wings and began to soar aloft. He went up, and up, and up, till he 
had reached a great height. Then he said to the Tortoise : " Now get 
ready; I'm going to throw you off, and you must try your hand at flying." 
So the Eagle threw him off, and he went down, and down, and down, till at 
last he fell upon a hard rock and was dashed to pieces. Proud ambition to 
fly has cost many people their lives. " Be content with such things as ye 
have." 

Everything goes wrong with some people because they make it. 
They never have any pleasure because they never get ready to enjoy it. 
Everything is out of humor and so are the people. Something is wrong all 
the time, and the wrong is with them. Their lot is harder than falls to 
other mortals; their home is the worst of anybody's; they have more 
trouble than anybody else ; they are never so happy as when they grumble ; 
and if everything worked to their satisfaction, they would still grumble 
because there was nothing for them to grumble about. The grumbler is a 
violator of God's law, and a sinner against the peace and harmony of 
society. While we are perfectly willing the grumbler should go to Heaven 
at death, everybody is heartily glad to get rid of him on earth. 



What a pity that so many children are taken out of school just when 
they are beginning to learn. Boys and girls taken out of school and cooped 
up in stores, shops, and factories, are not only mentally impoverished, but 
physically ruined, and that, too, for a miserable pittance. It is a false 
economy to make children earn their bread too soon. While at school the 
history, geography, grammar, physiology and natural philosophy they learn 



THE SOCIAL LIFE. 235 



constitute the knowledge that will be their capital when they enter on the 
business of life. Intelligent workmen are cheaper at higher wages than 
the uneducated. Give your children the best education you possibly can. 
Even if they should not live to profit by their education, and should 
disappoint all your hopes, still you will have the consciousness of having 
discharged your duty to them ; of having done all in your power to make 
them what God willed they should be — men and women. 

Wordsworth asks : 

" What is pride ? A whizzing rocket 
That would emulate a star." 

There is a plenty of ragged aristocracy in the world — gaudy parlors and 
empty kitchens. Trying to be somebody when you are nobody is up-hill 
work. 

The man who minds his own business has his hands full. If you 
have no business, then make it your business to leave the business of others 
alone. They who know most about other people's business generally fail 
in their own. Some people are so busy meddling with other people's 
business, and so seldom minding their own, that I would not be at all 
surprised, at the general resurrection, to find them getting out of somebody 
else's grave. 

Avoid all exaggeration. Be honest and modest in all your observa- 
tions. Some men live in a kind of mental telescope, through whose magni- 
fying medium every mouse is turned into an elephant. 

What does any man want with a revolver? Why carry one wherever 
you go? What has a man with a clear conscience to be afraid of? There 
is nothing going to hurt you. Be gentlemen, be fair, be honest, be upright, 
and there will be no reason for the deadly weapon. 



THE VIRTUE AND VICE OF PRIDE. 

PRIDE is a virtue. Pride is also a vice. Without pride as a principle a 
man can not be virtuous. The pride that is a vice is the over-valuing 
of one's self for some real or imagined superiority, producing haughty 
bearing and arrogance of manner. 

It is related of the French family of the Duke de Levis, that they 
have a picture of their pedigree, in which Noah is represented going into 



236 THE SOCIAL LIFE. 

the ark, and carrying a small trunk, on which is written : " Papers belonging 
to the Levis family." There are many men whose reputation hangs upon 
their having had a grandfather, and the only thing they do is talk about 
their noble ancestry. 

The peacock has graceful hues, that put to shame the richest fabrics 
ever wrought in looms. Could he but look at his ugly feet his pride would 
soon abate. So with men : if there be beauty, rank, wealth, fame, talent, 
success, or any other thing that will engender pride, there is also some coun- 
terpart to it to keep them humble. Some shrewd philosopher has said that if 
the best man had his faults written on his forehead they would make him 
pull his hat over his eyes ! 



BORROWED TROUBLES. 

DON'T torment yourselves with borrowed troubles. Don't wait for happi- 
ness. Go to work and make it. Adopt the true philosophy of life. 
Take things as they come. Look at the bright side. If there is no bright 
side brush up one of the dark ones. Don't hang down your heads or lips. 
"Nothing so bad but it might have been worse." "It is a long lane that 
has no turning." " 'Tis always morning somewhere in the world." "Every 
cloud has a silver lining." "The darkest hour of the night is that which 
precedes the dawn." Form the habit of thinking how much there is to 
cheer you, even when there may be much to depress. A poor widow, not 
having bed-clothes to shelter her boy from the snow which was blown 
through the cracks of her miserable hovel, used to cover him with boards. 
One night he said to her, smilingly and contentedly : " Ma, what do poor 
folks do these cold nights that haven't any boards to put on their children ?" 
A poor widow living in a house open to snow in winter, and who could 
have no fire when the wind blew, exclaimed : " How favored I am ! For 
when it is coldest and the wind does not blow, I can have a fire." When 
rheumatism had disabled one of her feet, she exclaimed again: "How 
favored I am ! I once lost the use of both my feet." Thus in every calamity 
she saw some especial mercy. " How dismal you look," said a bucket to 
his companion as they were going to the well, "Ah!" replied the other, "I 
was reflecting on the uselessness of our being filled ; for let us go away 
ever so full, we always come back empty." "Dear me! How strange to 
look at it in that way," said the other bucket. "Now I enjoy the thought 
that however empty we come, we always go away full. Only look at it in 
that light and you will be as cheerful as I am." 



(<rp 



THE SOCIAL LIFE. 237 

WHAT OF THAT ? 

IRED! " well, what of that? 

Did'st fancy life was made for beds of ease, 
To flit, like rose-leaves, scattered by the breeze ? 
Come, rouse thee ? Work while it is called to-day. 
Coward, arise, go forth upon thy way ! 

! Lonely ! " And what of that ? 
Some will be lonely: 'tis not given to all 
To find a heart responsive to its call, 
Blending another life into its own. 
Work may be done in loneliness ! Work on ! 

Dark!" well, and what of that? 

Did'st fancy life one summer holiday, 

With lessons none to learn, and nought but play? 

Go — get thee to thy task — conquer or die ! 

It must be learned ; learn it then patiently. 

No help!" Nay, 'tis not so. 

Though human help be far, thy God is nigh. 

He feeds the ravens, and he hears thy cry. 

He's near thee, alway, where thy footsteps roam, 

And he will guide, and cheer, and help thee home ! 

— T. E. 



NEW EVERY MORNING. 

1 VERY day is a fresh beginning, 
' Every morn is the world made new. 
You who are weary of sorrow and sinning, 

Here is a beautiful hope for you — 

A hope for me and a hope for you. 

All the past things are past and over, 

The tasks are done and the tears are shed. 

Yesterday's errors let yesterday cover ; 

Yesterday's wounds, which smarted and bled, 
Are healed with the healing which night has shed. 

15 



238 THE SOCIAL LIFE. 

Yesterday now is a part of forever, 

Bound up in a sheaf, which God holds tight, 

With glad days, and sad days, and bad days, which never 
Shall visit us more with their bloom and their blight, 
Their fulness of sunshine or sorrowful night. 

Let them go, since we can not relieve them, 

Can not undo and can not atone ; 
God in his mercy receive, forgive them ! 

Only the new days are our own : 

To-day is ours, and to-day alone. 

Here are the skies all burnished brightly, 
Here is the spent earth all reborn, 

Here are the tired limbs springing lightly 
To face the sun and share with the morn 
In the chrism of dew and the cool of dawn. 

Every day is a fresh beginning ! 
Listen, my soul, to the glad refrain, 

And, spite of old sorrow and older sinning, 
And puzzles forecasted, and possible pain, 
Take heart with the day, and begin again ! 

— Coolidge. 



GROWING OLD GRACEFULLY. 

ONE of the most needful and practical lessons of life is this — if God in 
his providence should spare us to old age, we should seek to grow old 
gracefully, ripening and mellowing, softening and brightening, filled with 
wisdom and patience and good cheer as the years go by. We know the 
danger that old age, with its pain and infirmity, its release from active care, 
its narrowing circle of friends and its tendency to dwell in the past, may 
grow fretful and sour, morose, peevish, and unattractive, may chafe under 
its surroundings, and feel out of gear with all the machinery of life, and 
with the appointments of God and of Nature. 

This danger, in a multitude of instances, to their praise be it said, is 
resisted and overcome. It may be overcome in every instance, and old age 
always becomes the serenest, sweetest, sunniest, happiest, most attractive, 
and most blessed period of life ; as beautiful as an orchard whose ruddy 
fruit bends the ladened branches and peeps out blushingly between the 
leaves, or as a harvest field whose golden grain rivals the brightness of the 
autumn sun. To grow older should be certainly to grow wiser, and 



THE SOCIAL LIFE. 239 



wisdom's ways are ways of pleasantness not only at the start, but increas- 
ingly so as they approach the goal of life. 

To this end, that old age may be sweet and not sour, attractive and 
not repulsive, neither uncomfortable nor a discomfort, four simple rules 
may be suggested as worthy of remembrance. 

ACCEPT THE INEVITABLE. 

First, accept the indisputable and inevitable fact that you are growing 
older every year and every day, that you are older to-day than you were 
last year, or last month, or even yesterday. Do not conceal it from yourself, 
and do not foolishly and vainly attempt to conceal it from others. Acquiesce 
cheerfully in what you can not help and more than that in what you would 
not help if you could. Only be sure that the advancing years are bringing 
to you wisdom and maturity of life, experience and strength of character, 
and then thank God for the blessed fruits of life. To grow is not neces- 
sarily to grow "old," in the common use of the word. There are young 
old people as well as old young people. The heart instead of drying up 
may be full of a richer life, and instead of being an urn for ashes may glow 
with the flame of a brighter and holier purpose. 

Second, do not brood over the past. The years bring changes, many 
and sad, the loss of friendships that were inexpressibly dear, and the 
vanishing of faces whose smile was as the light of Heaven. Those who 
started out with you in the morning of life or stood with you on your happy 
wedding day are fast disappearing. New friends have come in ; but the 
vacant places never get filled, and the heart will sometimes feel a pang of 
loneliness ; or, what is worse, the past may be full of lost opportunities, 
disappointments, hardships, miserable failures, or committed sins. 

LET THE PAST GO. 

You can not change the past. It is gone ; let it go. The present and 
the future are yours. If there is any honey in the past, extract it ; but 
leave the empty comb and the stinging bees to their fate, and turn your 
face to the new life that is before you. Some one has said the only 
proper use of the past is to get a future out of it. 

Third, have hopeful views; look on the bright side of things; do not 
be discouraged. Do not be a pessimist and think everything is going to 
the bad as fast as it can. In the name of eternal truth and Almighty God, 
and his ever-coming kingdom, do not despair of your times, your nation, 
your church, or yourself. The nation has endured Republican adminstrations 
and Democratic administrations, and passed through many a stormy presi- 
dential campaign, and still lives, and indeed has grown richer and more 
prosperous all the time. The Church of Christ has passed through the 



2 4 o THE SOCIAL LIFE. 



hottest fires of persecution, hotter than will ever be kindled again, and 
instead of being consumed has shone the brighter. 

To talk about the former times as better than these, and be 
discouraged in your work for God and his Church, is not only evidence of 
old age, but of the weakness of old age, of approaching senility. The 
golden age of the Church and the world is not in the past, but in the 
future. 

And, personally, you are in God's hands ; your affairs are under his 
all-wise supervision ; your future, unknown to you, is all known to him, and 
is within the safe circumstance of his gracious promises. "All things 
work together for good to them that love him." You are in his keeping, 
and your sainted dead are in his keeping. God is the God of eternity as 
well as of time, and the future is but the blossoming of his purpose. Be 
not faithless and hopeless, but believing. 

" Look where we may the wide earth o'er, 
Those lighted faces smile no more ; 
Yet love will dream and faith will trust 
(Since He who knows our need is just). 
That somehow, somewhere, meet we must. 
Alas for him who never sees 
The stars shine through his cypress trees, 
And hopeless lays his dead away !" 

BE FOLLOWERS OF CHRIST. 

And fourth, and above all, be followers of Jesus Christ. This will 
make you patient and contented with God's appointments, will keep you 
from brooding as nothing else will or can, and will fill your vision with 
brightness and hope. No man should allow himself to grow old without 
Christ. No man should try to build the house of the soul on the weak and 
sandy foundations of his own righteousness. Be humble, sincere, and open 
believers in the only Saviour of the world, who is the guide of youth, the 
support of age, the friend of the dying, and the author of immortality. Let 
not the sun of your life go down in darkness and uncertainty. Let your 
last days on earth be full of the peace of God and radiant with the hope of 
Heaven. Be numbered with God's people here, and through divine grace 
look forward to a blessed and unbroken reunion with all the loved and 
sainted dead of all the ages. Then shall your old age be serene and happy, 
and sustained under all infirmity and pain with the promise of eternal 
youth. "There shall be no more an infant of days, nor an old man that 
hath not filled his days ; for the child shall die a hundred years old, but the 
sinner, being a hundred years old, shall be accursed." — Henry M. King. 




usinoaa 



ife. 



THE BUSINESS LIFE 



LEAVING HOME. 



THE critical period in a young man's life is when he leaves home, the 
presence and influence of parents, his instructors and early associates, 
to start in life for himself, and to make new companions and acquaintances. 
The young men leave the country and settle in our large towns and cities. 
They suppose that because the sphere of operation is larger, the chances of 
success are more favorable. They come with visions of wealth before them. 
They come with a mother's prayers, youthful purity, and vigor, inexperienced 
in crime, ignorant of the vices of the wicked, and therefore easily entrapped. 
Soon they are among strangers. The quiet of the old home is exchanged 
for the din and bustle of the city's life. Instead of the bright and joyful 
hearthstone of the old homestead, when the work of the day is done, they 
have the loneliness of the boarding-house, from 'which they are often led 
by the temptation of sinful companions to places of merriment and 
dissipation. The young man is alone in the great city, and the devil is 
sure to tempt him when he is lonely. 

LOST IN THE CROWDED CITY. 

How weak we all are when alone. How little we seem when lost in 
the great crowd. How much of life is wrapped up in our hearts. How 
love strengthens character and surrounds it with bulwarks. All these a 
young man leaves behind him when he goes from home, and takes the risks 
waiting for him in the city. 

A young man without a home, without good friends, in a large city ? 
is an object of pity. 

For a whole year young men in our cities never sit down in quiet 
conversation with a family group. They know no families. They are only 
acquainted with those like themselves, whose chief attraction is the street 
or the theatre. Society, in the higher sense of the term, they know 
nothing about. They are not at ease in the company of the refined and 
religious. Their taste is gross and sensual ; their conversation has the 
ring of coarseness; their manners are rough; their ease and grace in 
virtuous company are gone. Such society becomes distasteful. They 

243 



THE BUSINESS LIFE. 



prefer the club-room to the parlor, the ball to the private circle at home, 
the boisterous crowd of the street to the intelligent society of ladies, or the 
elevating influence of music. 

Thus we see hundreds and thousands of young men slowly going 
down to ruin. One restraint after another is broken ; old friendships lose 
their power; early recollections fade slowly away; home is forgotten, or 
seldom visited ; church is neglected ; the old Bible, the mother's gift, is 
unread and unstudied ; and deeper and deeper they plunge for gratification. 
To silence conscience they benumb their feelings with strong drink. To 
bury thoughts of former innocence and of home, they rush into all kinds of 
amusements and excitements. 

REFLECTION — SELF-EXAMINATION, THOUGHTS OF 

accountability to God, — these become purgatory to the soul, — hence, they 
must be thoughtless, indifferent, and even scoffers at religion. They soon 
destroy health, blast character, and come down to a sick and dying bed. 
They break a mother's heart, fill an untimely grave, and lose their souls. 

How sad and heart-rending this scene ! O God ! pity and save these 
straying lambs, lost in our city vices, and on the road to hell ! Christian 
young men, unite, combine, organize, pray, work, and turn their feet into 
the royal highway of God's redeemed people. Church-members, welcome 
them to your churches, your pews. Speak to them ; invite them to come 
again. Be kind to them, and you may pluck a jewel from the mire to shine 
in Christ's coronet. You may, in saving one soul, set in motion a wave of 
influence and power for good that shall roll on through the ages, and never 
cease. — Christian Union. 



D 



WRITE THEM A LETTER TO-NIGHT." 

ON'T go to the theatre, concert, or ball, 

But stay in your room to-night ; 
Deny yourself to the friends that call, 

And a good long letter write — 
Write to the sad old folks at home, 

Who sit when the day is done, 
With folded hands and downcast eyes, 

And think of the absent one. 

Don't selfishly scribble " excuse my haste, 

I've scarcely the time to write," 
Lest their brooding thoughts go wandering back 

To many a bygone night — 



THE BUSINESS LIFE. 245 

When they lost their needed sleep and rest, 

And every breath was a prayer — 
That God would leave their delicate babe 

To their tender love and care. 

Don't let them feel that you've no more need 

Of their love or counsel wise ; 
For the heart grows strongly sensitive 

When age has dimmed the eyes — 
It might be well to let them believe 

You never forget them, quite ; 
That you deem it a pleasure, when far away, 

Long letters home to write. 

Don't think that the young and giddy friends, 

Who make your pastime gay, 
Have half the anxious thought for you 

That the old folks have to-day. 
The duty of writing do not put off ; 

Let sleep or pleasure wait, 
Lest the letter for which they looked and longed 

Be a day or an hour too late. 

For the loving, sad old folks at home, 

With locks fast turning white, 
Are longing to hear from the absent one — 

Write them a letter to-night. 



THE RIGHT VOCATION. 

ONE of the most serious blunders young men frequently make is 
concerning their occupation or calling. The world is full of " square 
men in round holes, and round men in square holes." Many men have 
made shipwrecks of themselves and their prospects by rushing thoughtlessly 
into some business or profession for which Nature never intended them. 
Dean Swift says : 

" Brutes find out where their talents lie ; 
A bear will not attempt to fly; 
A foundered horse will not oft debate 
Before he tries a five-barred gate. 
A dog by instinct turns aside 



246 THE BUSINESS LIFE. 

Who sees the ditch too deep and wide ; 
But man we find the only creature 
Who, led by folly, combats Nature ; 
Who, when she loudly cries forbear! 
With obstinacy fixes there ; 
And where his genius least inclines 
Absurdly bends his whole designs." 

The mischievous notion that a man to be respected must either be a 
preacher, doctor, or lawyer, has spoiled many a good carpenter, blacksmith, 
or farmer. A shoemaker may put genius into his work, while a physician 
may only quack, a lawyer pettifog, and a preacher bore. It matters not 
what a man's vocation is, if pursued with an honorable spirit. Every man 
should do that to which he naturally and instinctively inclines. Take care 
before you decide. A change in a calling can seldom be made to advantage. 

"Honor and shame from no condition rise; 
Act well your part; there all the honor lies." 

— Empty Pews. 



GETTING THE RIGHT START. 

THE first great lesson a young man should learn is that he knows 
nothing, and that the earlier and more thoroughly this lesson is 
learned the better it will be for his peace of mind and his success in life. 
A young man bred at home, and growing up in the light of parental 
admiration and fraternal pride, cannot readily understand how it is that 
every one else can be his equal in talent and acquisition. If bred in the 
country, he seeks the life of the town, where he will very early obtain an 
idea of his insignificance. 

This is a critical period in his history. The result of his reasoning 
will decide his fate. If at this time he thoroughly comprehended, and in 
his soul admit and accept the fact that he knows nothing and is nothing ; if 
he bow to the conviction that his mind and his person are but ciphers, and 
that whatever he is to be and is to win must be achieved by hard work, 
there is abundant hope of him. 

If, on the contrary, a huge self-conceit still hold possession of him, 
and he straighten stiffly up to the assertion of his old and valueless self, or 
if he sink discouraged upon the threshold of a life of fierce competitions 
and more manly emulations, he might as well be a dead man. The world 
has no use for such a man, and he has only to retire or be trodden upon. 



THE BUSINESS LIFE. 247 

When a young- man has thoroughly comprehended the fact that he 
knows nothing, and that intrinsically he is of but little value, the next thing 
for him to learn is that the world cares nothing for him — that he is the 
subject of no man's overwhelming admiration and esteem — that he must 
take care of himself. 

If he be a stranger, he will find every man busy with his own affairs, 
and none to look after him. He will not be noticed until he becomes 
noticeable, and he will not become noticeable until he does something to 
prove that he has an absolute value in society. No letter of recommenda- 
tion will give him this, or ought to give him this. No family connection 
will give him this, except among those few who think more of blood than 
brains. 

AN UNMANLY AND COWARDLY SPIRIT. 

Society demands that a young man shall be somebody, not only, but 
that he shall prove his right to the title ; and it has a right to demand this. 
Society will not take this matter upon trust, at least not for a long time : 
for it has been cheated too frequently. Society is not very particular what 
a man does, so that it prove him to be a man ; then it will bow to him and 
make room for him. 

There is no surer sign of an unmanly and cowardly spirit than a 
vague desire for help, a wish to depend, to lean upon somebody and enjoy 
the fruits of the industry of others. There are multitudes of young men 
who indulge in dreams of help from some quarter coming in at a convenient 
moment to enable them to secure the success in life which they covet. The 
vision haunts them of some benevolent old gentleman with a pocket full of 
money, a trunk full of mortgages and stocks, and a mind remarkably 
appreciative of merit and genius, who will, perhaps, give or lend them from 
ten to twenty thousand dollars, with which they will commence and go on 
swimmingly. 

HEALTHY BLOOD AND BROAD SHOULDERS. 

To me one of the most disgusting sights in the world is that of a 
young man with healthy blood, broad shoulders and a hundred and fifty 
pounds more or less, of good bone and muscle, standing with his hands in 
his pockets, longing for help. I admit that there are positions in which the 
most independent spirit may accept of assistance — may, in fact, as a choice 
of evils, desire it ; but for a man who is able to help himself, to desire the 
help of others in the accomplishment of his plans of life, is positive proof 
that he has received a most -unfortunate training, or that there is a leaven 
of meanness in his composition that should make him shudder. 



248 THE BUSINESS LIFE. 

When, therefore, a young man has ascertained and fully received the 
fact that he does not know anything, that the world does not care anything 
about him, that what he wins must be won by his own brain and brawn, 
and that while he holds in his own hands the means of gaining his 
own livelihood and the objects of his life, he cannot receive assistance 
without compromising his self-respect and selling his- freedom, he is in a 
fair position for beginning life. When a young man becomes aware 
that only by his own efforts can he rise into companionship and competition 
with the sharp, strong, and well-drilled minds around him, he is ready for 
work, and not before. 

The next lesson is that of patience, thoroughness of preparation and 
contentment with the regular channels of business effort and enterprise. 
This is, perhaps, one of the most difficult to learn of all the lessons of life. 
It is natural for the mind to reach out eagerly for immediate results. 

THE GOLDEN DOMES OF HIGH POSSIBILITIES. 

As manhood dawns, and the young man catches in its first light the 
pinnacles of realized dreams, the golden domes of high possibilities, and 
the purpling hills of great delights, and then looks down upon the narrow, 
sinuous, long, and dusty path by which others have reached them, he is apt 
to be disgusted with the passage and to seek for success through broader 
channels, by quicker means. Beginning at the very foot of the hill and 
working slowly to the top seems a very discouraging process ; and precisely 
at this point have thousands of young men made shipwreck of their lives. 

UNEARNED SUCCESS IS A CURSE. 

Let this be understood, then, at starting; that the patient conquest 
of difficulties which rise in the regular and legitimate channels of business 
and enterprise is not only essential in securing the successes which you 
seek, but it is essential to that preparation of your mind requisite for the 
enjoyment of your successes and for retaining them when gained. It is the 
general rule of Providence the world over, and in all time, that unearned 
success is a curse. It is the rule of Providence that the process of earning 
success shall be the preparation for its conservation and enjoyment. 

So, day by day, week by week ; so, month after month, and year after 
year, work on, and in that process gain strength and symmetry, and nerve 
and knowledge, that when success, patiently and bravely worked for, shall 
come, it may find you prepared to receive it and keep it. The development 
you will get in this brave and patient labor will prove itself in the end the 
most valuable of your successes. It will help to make a man of you. It 
will give you power and self-reliance. It will give you not only self-respect, 
but the respect of your fellows and the public.—/- G. Holland. 



THE BUSINESS LIFE. 249 

THE SPIRIT OF WORK. 

NINETY per cent, of what men call genius is a talent for hard work. 
The drudgery which some men have gone through with in executing 
their plans almost staggers belief. To acquire a polished style, Lord 
Chesterfield, for many years, wrote down every brilliant passage he met 
with and translated it into French ; or, if it was in a foreign language, into 
English. To gain a mastery of language, Lord Chatham not only trans- 
lated Demosthenes into English, but also read Bailey's folio dictionary 
twice through with attention. His son, William Pitt, before he was twenty 
years old, had read the works of nearly all the ancient classic authors. The 
"silver-tongued" Mansfield not only translated all of Cicero's orations into 
English, but also retranslated the English orations into Latin. 

BUTLER, WHO 

exhibits in his " Hudibras " an amount of wit, comic illustration, and curios, 
and out-of-the-way learning that is absolutely portentious, kept a common- 
place book, in which, according to Dr. Johnson, he had deposited for many 
years not such events and precepts as are gathered by reading, but such 
remarks, similitudes, allusions, assemblages, or inferences as occasion 
prompted or inclination produced. " Such," adds Johnson, " is the labor of 
those who write for immortality." Before the great essayist himself began 
the <f Rambler," he had collected a great variety of hints on different 
subjects. Addison amassed three folios of manuscript before he began the 
" Spectator." 

THE MOST LABORIOUS OF HUMAN BEINGS. 

Jean Paul Richter did the same thing. For years he went on making 
great books of extracts which he called his quarries. Hume toiled thirteen 
hours a day while preparing his " History of England." Lord Bacon left 
many manuscripts, entitled, " Sudden Thoughts Set Down for Use." Lord 
Eldon copied "Coke upon Littleton" twice, re-reading the crabbed work till 
his whole mind was saturated with its lore. 

Heyne, the great German classicist, shelled the peas for his dinner 
with one hand while he annotated "Tibullus" with the other. Matthew 
Hale, while a student of law, studied sixteen hours a day. Sir Thomas 
Moore and Bishops Jewell and Burnett began their studies at four in the 
morning; Paley rose at five; Gibbon was hard at work, the year round, 
at six. Burke was the most laborious of human beings; Pascal killed 
himself by study ; Cicero narrowly escaped death from the same cause ; 
Hooker, Barrow, and Jeremy Taylor were industrious scholars ; Milton kept 
to his books with greatest regularity. 



2 5 o THE BUSINESS LIFE. 



It is said of Dickens, that when that little Christmas book, "The 
Chimes," was about to rise from the ocean depths of his thought, that he 
shut himself up for a month, close and tight, till all his affections and 
passions got twined and knotted up in it ; and long ere he reached the end 
he became "haggered as a murderer." When requested to read a new 
selection from his writings, he replied that he had not time to prepare 
himself, as he was in the habit of reading a piece once a day for six months 
before reciting it in public. That the author of " David Copperfield " had 
little faith in improvisations is evident from the following golden words : 
"The one serviceable, safe, certain, remunerative, attainable quality in 
every study and every pursuit, is the quality of attention. My own 
invention or imagination, such as it is, I can most truthfully assure you, 
would never have served me as it has but for the habit of common-place, 
humble, patient, daily, toiling, drudging attention." 

A MODEL OF ITS KIND. 

Gibbon wrote his autobiography, a model of its kind, nine times 
before he could satisfy himself. Hazlitt spent so many weary years before 
he could wreak his thoughts upon expression, that he almost despaired of 
ever succeeding as an author. John Foster tells us that in the revision of 
his essays, his principle was to treat no page, sentence or word with the 
smallest ceremony, but " to hack, split, twist, prune, pull up by the roots, or 
practice any other severity on whatever he did not like." When Chalmers, 
after a visit to London, was asked what Foster was about, he replied: 
" Hard at it ; at the rate of a line a week." 

Tom Moore thought ten lines a day good work, and he would keep a 
poem by him for weeks, waiting for a single word. Montesquieu, speaking 
of one part of his writings, said to a friend : " You will read it in a few 
hours, but I assure you it cost me so much labor that it has whitened my 
hair." 

THREE DAYS TO COMPOSE FIVE LINES. 

It is said that a rival playwright once jeered at Euripides, because he 
had taken three days to compose five lines, whilst he had dashed off five 
hundred in the same time. "Yes," was the just retort, "but your five 
hundred lines in three days will be dead and forgotten, whilst my five will 
live forever." 

The number of hours spent in the manual labor of writing a book is 
no measure of the brain labor expended in composing it. Thoughts to flow 
easily, must overflow from a full mind. 

Alonzo Cano, the Spanish sculptor, completed a beautiful statue in 
twenty-five days. When the sordid merchant who had employed him 



THE BUSINESS LIFE. 251 

wished to pay him by the day, he cried out, indignantly : " Wretch ! I have 
been at work twenty-five years, learning to make this statue in twenty-five 
days." 

" There is work for all in this world of ours ; 
Ho ! idle dreamers in sunny bowers ; 
Ho ! giddy triflers with time and health ; 
Ho ! covetous hoarders of golden wealth ; 
There is work for each, there is work for all, 
In the peasant's cot, or baronial hall. 

There is work for the wise and eloquent tongue, 

There is work for the old, there is work for the young ; 

There is work that task's manhood's strengthened zeal 

For his nature's welfare, his country's weal ; 

There is work that asks woman's gentle hand, 

Her pitying eye, and her accents bland : 

From the uttermost bounds of this earthly ball, 

Is heard the loud cry, 'There is work for all.' " 



AIM AND OBJECT IN LIFE. 

OTHAT we could wake men up to exercise the faculty of thinking, and 
then to direct, to regulate, and to control their thoughts! But 
thinking is an occupation that a great many persons altogether dislike. 
They are frivolous. We cannot get them to think about anything. Many 
minds never get on the wing at all. Not a few men work so hard with 
their hands, and suffer such fatigue from bodily labor, that they are 
scarcely able to think much ; while there are others who dissipate their 
time and consume their lives in idleness, till they are utterly disqualified 
for any vigorous thought. They are lazy and sluggish. They have the dry 
rot in their very souls. Their brains do not work. They seem to live in 
one everlasting lethargy and day-dream. O that men were wise, that they 
were thoughtful ! Ask many a man whom you meet with, " Sir, what are 
you living for?" he would, perhaps, tell you what his trade or what 
his profession might be ; but if you pressed him with the question, 
"What is the main object of life?" he would not like to say that he 
was living only to enjoy himself — seeking his own pleasure. He would 
hardly like to say that he was living to grasp and grab and get a fortune. 
He would hardly know how to answer you. Many young men are in this 
condition; they have not a definite object. Now, you will not make a good 



252 THE BUSINESS LIFE. 



captain if you do not know the port you are sailing for. You will make a 
poor life of it, young man, if you go out as an apprentice, and then 
afterwards out as a master, with no definite aim and end. Say to yourself, 
" I can only live for two things. I can live for God, or I can live for the 
devil; which, now, am I going to do?" Get your mind well fixed and 
firmly resolved as to which it shall be. I will put it to you as boldly and 
badly as even Elijah did when he said: "If Baal be God, serve Him; and if 
Jehovah be God, serve Him." If the world, if the flesh, if the devil, be 
worth serving, go follow out the career of a sensualist, and say so. Let 
yourself know what you are at ; but if God be worth serving, and your soul 
worth the saving, go in for that ; but do not sneak through this world really 
seeking yourself, and yet not having the courage to say to yourself, " Self, 
you are living for yourself." Do have a definite and distinct object, or else 
your vital energies will be wasted, and your most industrious days will be 
recklessly squandered. — C. H. Spurgeon. 



T 



THE "JACK OF ALL TRADES." 

HE "Jack of all trades," the miscellaneous man, is most always a 
failure. Universal geniuses are rare. Men who are everything by 
fits and starts are nothing long. The mind is like a burning-glass whose 
rays are intense only when they are concentrated. It is not diffused 
electricity, but the thunderbolt that is terrible in its effects. Scattered 
steam is powerless, but concentrated it can cut through the rock. Says Dr. 
Matthews : " Many a person misses of being a great man by splitting into 
two middling ones. The highest ability will accomplish but little if 
scattered on a multitude of objects. If one has but a thimbleful of brains 
and concentrates them all upon the thing he has in hand, he may achieve 
miracles. Momentum in physics, properly directed, will drive a tallow 
candle through an inch board." 

MEN WHO FLOP OVER. 

The world is full of men whose make-up is like the dog in Spalding's 
celebrated glue ; he was cut in two by a railroad train, but was immediately 
stuck together by this famous preparation, and was as good as ever, save 
that in the haste, one pair of legs was stuck up, while the other was stuck 
down ; so that when tired of running on one side, he could flop over and 
run just as well on the other side. Men who flop over from one thing to 
another, may be successes in politics, but in business, mugwumps are 
failures. 



THE BUSINESS LIFE. 253 



"My father," said a little fellow, bragging about his father, "can do 
almost anything. He's a notary public, an apothecary, and he can pull 
teeth ; he's a horse doctor, and he can mend wagons and things ; he can play 
the fiddle, and he's a. jackass at all trades." 

Thousands of men fail in life by dabbling in too many things. Fuller 
says : " He that sips at many arts, drinks of none." To succeed, you must 
be unanimous with yourself. It is said that a Yankee can splice a rope in 
many different ways ; an English sailor knows but one mode, but that mode 
is the best. The great historic names are identified with some single 
achievement, they were men of one idea. Plato was a man of one idea — 
philosophy; Demosthenes — oratory; Paul — Christianity; Luther — the 
Reformation; Cromwell — the English commonwealth; Awkright — the 
invention and improvement of machinery for spinning cotton ; Watt — the 
steam engine ; Morse — the electric telegraph ; Harvey — the circulation of 
the blood ; Jenner — vaccination ; Fulton — the steamboat ; Agassiz — natural 
science; Garibaldi — liberty; Wendall Phillips — the overthrow of slavery; 
Shakespeare — the drama; Count Cavour — the unification of Italy; and 
Bismarck has achieved the same political result for Germany. Butler spent 
twenty years on his "Analogy ;" Gibbon spent the same number of years on 
" The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire." 

EMANUEL KANT, THE GERMAN 

philosopher, devoted fifty years to the study of metaphysical problems. 
Adam Smith spent ten years on his "Wealth of Nations." Pitt, the 
heaven-born statesman, converged all the rays of his mind upon the subject 
in hand, worked like a beaver, and did nothing by halves. 

Consider your work as important as if the whole world turned on it as 
a pivot. 

■ Charles Dickens said : " Whatever I have tried to do in my life, I 
have tried with all my heart to do well." One of Ignatius Loyola's maxims 
was : " He who does well one work at a time, does more than they all." 

Douglass Jerrold said : " He knew a man with twenty languages, 
but had not an idea in them all." Many men are failures because they are 
too like a certain Vicar described by the poet Pread : 

His talk is like a stream which runs 

With rapid change from rocks to roses ; 
It slips from politics to puns, 

It glides from Mahomet to Moses. 
Beginning with the law that keeps 

The planets-in their radiant courses ; 
And ending with some precept deep, 

For skinning eels, or shoeing horses. 



254 THE BUSINESS LIFE. 



Choose that profession or calling to which your peculiar genius 
inclines, then stick to it like a leech to a little boy's big toe; and the 
probabilities are in your favor that you will become what the Irishmen 
pronounced the Hoosac Tunnel to be, "a great ornament to society." 



CONCENTRATION. 

WHAT made Rufus Choate the greatest jury lawyer of the American 
bar, was concentration of all his forces at that one point. He used 
to tell his secret in these words : " Carry the jury at all hazards ; move heaven 
and earth to carry the jury, and then fight it out with the judges on the law 
questions as best you can." The man who scatters himself on several lines, 
divides his purpose, wastes his energies, smothers his enthusiasm, and 
usually fails in all his undertakings. 

Knives that have six blades, a corkscrew, a file, a toothpick, a screw- 
driver, a saw, a pair of tweezers, and a boot-buttoner are ingenious humbugs. 
They are bought by dudes and other idiots. 

Stick to one thing, as Mark Twain sticks to the word " thing " in 
describing the harnessing of horses to a Swiss diligence : "The man stands 
up the horse on each side of the thing that projects from the front of the 
wagon, and then throws the tangled mess of gear on top the horses, and 
passes the thing that goes forward through a ring ; and hauls it aft, and 
passes the other thing through the other ring ; and hauls it aft on the other 
side of the other horse opposite the first one ; after crossing them and 
bringing the loose ends back, he then buckles the other thing under the 
horse ; and takes another thing and wraps it around the thing I spoke of 
before, and puts another thing over each horse's head, with broad flappers 
to keep the dust out of his eyes, and puts the iron thing in his mouth to 
grit his teeth on up hill, and brings the ends of these things over his back, 
after buckling another thing around his neck to hold his head up, and 
hitching another thing on the thing that goes over his shoulder to keep his 
head up when he is climbing a hill, and then takes the slack of the thing I 
mentioned awhile ago, and fetches it aft, and makes it fast to the thing 
that pulls the wagon, and hands the other things up to the driver to steer 
with." 



SUCCESS OF YOUNG MEN. 

THE greatest captains of ancient and modern times, both conquered 
Italy at twenty-five. Youth, extreme youth, overthrew the Persian 
empire. Don John, of Austria, won Lepanto at twenty-five, the greatest 
battle of modern times; had it not been for the jealousy of Philip, the next 



THE BUSINESS LIFE. 255 

year he would have been Emperor of Mauritania. Gaston de Foix was 
only twenty-two when he stood a victor on the plain of Ravenna. Every 
one remembers Conde and Roeroy at the same age. Gustavus Adolphus 
died at thirty-eight — look at his captains, that wonderful Duke of Wiemar, 
only thirty-six when he died. Bauer himself, after all his miracles, died at 
forty-five. Cortez was little more than thirty when he gazed upon the 
golden cupolas of Mexico. When Maurice of Saxony died at thirty-two all 
Europe acknowledged the loss of the greatest captain and the profoundest 
statesman of the age. Then there is Nelson, Clive ; but these are warriors, 
and perhaps you may think there are greater -things than war; I do not. 
I worship the Lord of Hosts. But take the most illustrious achievements of 
civil prudence. Innocent III., the greatest of the popes, was the despot of 
Christendom at thirty-seven. John de Medici was a cardinal at fifteen, 
and Guicciardini tells us, baffled with his craft Ferdinand of Aragon 
himself. He was pope, as Leo X., at thirty-seven. Luther robbed even 
him of his richest province at thirty-five. 

TAKE IGNATIUS LOYOLA AND JOHN 

Wesley ; they worked with young brains. Ignatius was only thirty when 
he made his pilgrimage, and wrote the " Spiritual Exercises." Pascal 
wrote a great work at sixteen (the greatest of Frenchmen), and died at 
thirty-seven, Ah ! that fatal thirty-seven ! Which reminds me of Byron, 
greater even as a man than a writer. Was it experience that guided the 
pencil of Raphael when he painted the palaces of Rome? He died at 
thirty-seven. Richelieu was Secretary of State at thirty-one. Well, then, 
there are Bolingbroke and Pitt, both ministers before other men leave off 
cricket. Grotius was in practice at seventeen, and attorney-general at 
twenty-four. And Acquavivia was general of the Jesuits, ruled every 
cabinet in Europe, and colonized America before he was thirty-seven. 
What a career ! The secret sway of Europe ! That was indeed a position ! 
But it is needless to multiply instances — the history of heroes is the history 
of youth. — Disraeli. 



POOR BOYS AND GREAT EMINENCE. 

THE destiny of a man does not depend so much upon his surroundings 
as upon himself. The young man says : " O, if I had been born of 
influential or talented parents, if I had been blessed with the surroundings 
of wealth and culture, I could have been somebody ; but no one to help me, 
and compelled to toil for my daily bread, I can not even hope to be other 
than what fate decreed — a poor, unknown man." But if you are a real man, 
16 



256 THE BUSINESS LIFE. 

if you realize the almost infinite endowments of your manhood, if you are 
not satisfied with your condition, if j^ou grasp the fact that to you have 
been given powers by which you may conquer all enemies, that you have 
wings strong enough to bear you far above your surroundings, and you are 
willing to put forth your God-given strength — then do not blame fate if you 
remain where you are, but blame yourself. 

Some of the greatest men the world ever knew were the sons of poor 
and obscure parents. Columbus was the son of a weaver, and a weaver 
himself. Homer was the son of a small farmer. Moliere was the son of a 
tapestry maker. Demosthenes was the son of a cutler. Terrence was a 
slave. Oliver Cromwell was the son of a brewer. Howard was an apprentice 
to a grocer. Franklin was the son of a tallow-chandler and soap-boiler. 
Daniel Defoe was a hostler and son of a butcher. Whitfield was the son of 
an inn-keeper. Virgil was the son of a porter. Horace was the son of a 
shop-keeper. Shakespeare was the son of a wood-stapler. Milton was the 
son of a money-scrivener. Robert Burns was a plowman. Mohammed was 
a driver of asses. Madame Bernadotte was a washer-woman. Napoleon 
was of an obscure family. 

JOHN JACOB ASTOR SOLD APPLES ON THE STREETS OF 

New York. Catherine, Empress of Russia, was a camp-follower. Elihu 
Burrit was a blacksmith. Daniel Webster was a farm-boy. Henry Clay 
was the " mill-boy of the slashes." Abraham Lincoln was a rail-splitter. 
Grant was a tanner. James A. Garfield was a tow-boy on a canal. 

George Peabody, the banker, the man of magnificent charities, when 
a boy, earned his lodging and breakfast at a country tavern in Vermont by 
sawing wood. Cornelius Vanderbilt laid the foundation of his vast fortune 
with fifty dollars given to him by his mother. 

Stephen Girard left his native country at the age of twelve years as 
a cabin-boy. He was never too proud to work. When he became a rich 
man he delighted in telling that he commenced life with a six-pence, and 
he declared that a man's best capital was his industry. 

WORKED WITH A TROWEL IN HIS HAND. 

From among the masons and bricklayers came Ben Jonson, who- 
worked with a trowel in his hand and a book in his pocket; Edwards and 
Telford, the engineers ; Hugh Miller, the geologist ; and Allen Cunningham, 
the writer and sculptor. From the carpenters came John Hunter, the 
physiologist; Ronerey and Opie, the painters ; Prof essor Lee, the orientalist; 
and John Gibbons, the sculptor. From the weavers came Wilson, the 
ornithologist; Dr. Livingstone, the traveller; and Tannahill, the poet. 



THE BUSINESS LIFE. 257 

From the shoemakers came Samuel Drew, the essayist ; and Gifford, the 
editor of the " Quarterly Review." 

It is a common saying- that the men who have been the most successful 
are those who began the world in their shirt-sleeves. 

The children of wealthy parents are apt to allow their powers to lie 
dormant, because they do not have the stimulus to work. They think that 
they are provided for ; and seem to believe that there is no mission for them 
in this world other than living a life of indolence and worthlessness. 

Young man, young woman, if you have health and fair natural 
endowment, in spite of your poverty, in spite of all adverse circumstances, 
you may, by hard work, close application, and unconquerable perseverance, 
rise above the low places of poverty and obscurity; or if you never shine in 
the galaxy of the great ones of this earth, you may fill your lives, your 
homes with blessings, and make the world better in that you have lived. 



BRUCE AND THE SPIDER. 

'OR Scotland's and for freedom's right 

The Bruce his part had played, 
In five successive fields of fight 

Been conquered and dismayed ; 
Once more against the English host 
His band he led, and once more lost 

The meed for which he fought ; 
And now from battle, faint and worn, 
The homeless fugitive forlorn 

A hut's lone shelter sought. 

And cheerless was that resting-place 

For him who claimed a throne : 
His canopy, devoid of grace, 

The rude,, rough beams alone ; 
The heather couch his only bed, — 
Yet well I ween had slumber fled 

From couch of eider-down ! 
Through darksome night till dawn of day, 
Absorbed in wakeful thoughts he lay 

Of Scotland and her crown. 



258 THE BUSINESS LIFE. 



The sun rose brightly, and its gleam 

Fell on that hapless bed, 
And tinged with light each shapeless beam 

Which roofed the lowly shed ; 
When, looking up with wistful eye, 
The Bruce beheld a spider try 

His filmy thread to fling 
From beam to beam of that rude cot ; 
And well the insect's toilsome lot 

Taught Scotland's future king. 

Six times his gossamery thread 

The wary spider threw ; 
In vain the filmy line was sped, 

For powerless or untrue 
Each aim appeared, and back recoiled 
The patient insect, six times foiled, 

And yet unconquered still ; 
And soon the Bruce, with eager eye, 
Saw him prepare once more to try 

His courage, strength, and skill. 

One effort more, his seventh and last — 

The hero hailed the sign ! — 
And on the wished-for beam hung fast 

That slender, silken line ! 
Slight as it was, his spirit caught 
The more than omen, for his thought 

The lesson well could trace, 
Which even "he who runs may read," 
That Persevera'nce gains its meed, 

And Patience wins the race. 

— Bernard Barton. 



Be not simply good, — be good for something. — Thoreau. 

Stick to your business, and your business will stick to you. — Dr. Wm. 
Matthews. 

Strength is like gunpowder: to be effective it needs concentration 
and aim. — Matthews. 



THE BUSINESS LIFE. 259 

GOING TO THE CITY. 

THERE is, on the part of the young in the country, an eager, restless 
desire to get away from farm life and go to the city. They dislike the 
drudgery, the steady, hard work of the farm, and they think it would be 
much better and nicer if they could stand behind a counter, or work in an 
office, or even drive a city team. The glare and glitter, the noise and 
bustle, the activity and commotion, the apparent splendor and gayety of 
city life, they think, would just suit them. 

Said Dr. J. G. Holland, writing on this subject: "We see young men 
pushing everywhere into trade, into mechanical pursuits, into the learned 
professions, into insignificant clerkships, into salaried positions of every 
sort that will take them into towns, and support, and hold them there. 
We find it impossible to drive poor people from the cities with the threat 
of starvation. There they stay, and starve, and sicken, and sink." 

CITIES ARE OVERCROWDED. 

All cities are generally overcrowded. One-fifth of the entire popula- 
tion is now in the cities. 

Somehow or other, the life of the city has intense fascination to the 
dwellers on the farm, or to a great multitude of them. Especially is this 
the case with the young. 

The temptations and seductiveness of city life, its opportunities for 
self-destruction by gambling, drinking, licentiousness, and a thousand other 
evils; the peculiar isolation and lonesomeness of living among people 
whose names, even, you do not know, are not very pleasant things to 
consider. No one by looking merely at the outside can even imagine the 
amount of magnificent misery and gilded poverty which exist within city 
walls. And, there is as much drudgery to be done in the city as in the 
country ; if anything, even more. 

THE HAPPIEST OF ALL MEN. 

The man who ought to be the happiest of all men, is he who has a 
good farm, free from debt, and under a good state of cultivation, with a 
cheerful, loving wife, and healthy, dutiful children around him, filling his 
life with sunshine and joy. The farmer is better off, more independent, 
fares better, lodges better, and gets a larger return for his labor, than the 
worker in the city. How often we see the anomaly of thrifty farmers 
and starving tradesmen! The country must be fed, and the farmers 
feed it. 



260 THE BUSINESS LIFE. 

"None can describe the sweets of country life 
But those blest men that do enjoy and taste them. 
Plain husbandmen, though far below our pitch 
Of fortune placed, enjoy a wealth above us. 
They breathe the fresh and uncorrupted air, 
And in pure homes enjoy untroubled sleep; . 
Their state is fearless and secure, enriched 
With many blessings such as greatest kings 
Might in true justice envy, and themselves 
Would count too happy, if they truly knew them." 

" What happiness the rural maid attends. 
In cheerful labor while each day she spends ! 
She gratefully receives what Heaven hath sent, 
And, rich in poverty, enjoys content. 
She never loses life in thoughtless ease, 
Nor on the velvet couch invites disease ; 
Her home-spun dress in simple neatness lies, 
And for no glaring, gaudy trappings sighs. 
No midnight masquerade her beauty wears ; 
And health, not paint, the fading bloom repairs." 

Oliver Goldsmith thus paints a picture of country life : 

"Sweet was the sound when oft at evening's close, 
Up yonder hill the village murmur rose ; 
There, as I passed with careless steps and slow, 
The mingled notes came softened from below ; 
The swain responsive as the milkmaid sung, 
The sober herd that lowed to meet their young, 
The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool, 
The playful children just let loose from school,. 
The watch-dog's voice that bay'd the gentle wind, 
And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind ; 
These all in sweet confusion soughtthe shade 
And filled each. pause the nightingale had made." 

We say to the reader, go where you are sure you can do the best, be it 
in city, in town, or in the country ; but be very sure that you will better 
yourself, before you leave a good, comfortable home in the country to go to 
the city. The chances are ten to one that before a year passes over your 



THE BUSINESS LIFE. 261 

head, you will wish yourself back in the old place. If a man has plenty of 
money, he can get along very nicely in the city while his money lasts ; but 
when it is gone he might as well be in a prison or in a desert, as in the 
city, and penniless. 

To go to the city with a vague idea or hope of getting some kind of 
profitable business, or of falling in with some grand chance to make money, 
is the greatest of follies — going on a goose chase. 

If a man is doing well, and is comfortably situated in the country, he 
had by all means better let well enough alone, than venture out on an 
unknown and untried sea of city life, on which wrecks — moral and financial 
— are everywhere seen ; and where disasters multiply and thicken with the 
onrushing tide of increased population. 



TACT AND TALENT. 

TALENT is something, but tact is everything. Talent is serious, sober, 
grave and respectable : tact is all that, and more too. It is not a sixth 
sense, but it is the life of all the five. It is the open eye, the quick ear, the 
judging taste, the keen smell, and the lively touch ; it is the interpreter of 
all riddles, the surmounter of all difficulties, the remover of all obstacles. 
It is useful in all places, and at all times ; it is useful in solitude, for it 
shows a man his way into the world; it is useful in society, for it shows him 
his way through the world. 

" Talent is power, tact is skill ; talent is weight, tact is momentum ; 
talent knows what to do, tact knows how to do it ; talent makes a man 
respectable, tact will make him respected ; talent is wealth, tact is ready 
money. 

TACT BETTER THAN TALENT. 

For all the practical purposes of life, tact carries it against talent, ten 
to one. Take them to the theatre, and put them against each other on the 
stage, and talent shall produce you a tragedy that will scarcely live long 
enough to be condemned, while tact keeps the house in a roar, night after 
night, with its successful farces. There is no want of dramatic talent, there 
is no want of dramatic tact ; but they are seldom together : so we have 
successful pieces which are not respectable, and respectable pieces which 
are not successful. 

Take them to the bar, and let them shake their learned curls at each 
other in legal rivalry. Talent sees its way clearly, but tact is first at its jour- 
ney's end. Talent has many a compliment from the bench, but tact touches 



262 THE BUSINESS LIFE. 



fees from attorneys and clients. Talent speaks learnedly and logically, tact 
triumphantly. Talent makes the world wonder that it gets on no faster, tact 
excites astonishment that it gets on so fast. And the secret is, that tact 
has no weight to carry ; it makes no false steps ; it hits the right nail on the 
head; it loses no time; it takes all hints; and, by keeping its eye on the 
weathercock, is. ready to take advantage of every wind that blows. 

Take them into the church. Talent has always something worth 
hearing, tact is sure of abundance of hearers; talent may obtain a living, tact 
will make one ; talent gets a good name, tact a great one ; talent convinces, 
tact converts; talent is an honor to the prof ession, tact gains honor from the 
profession. 

Take them to court. Talent feels its weight, tact finds its way ; talent 
commands, tact is obeyed ; talent is honored with approbation, and tact is 
blessed by preferment. 

TALENT HAS THE EAR OF THE HOUSE. 

Place them in the Senate. Talent has the ear of the house, but tact wins 
its heart and has its votes ; talent is fit for employment, but tact is fitted for 
it. Tact has a knack of slipping into place with a sweet silence and glib- 
ness of movement, as a billiard-ball insinuates itself into the pocket. It 
seems to know everything, without learning anything. It has served an 
invisible and extemporary apprenticeship ; it wants no drilling ; it never 
ranks in the awkward squad ; it has no left hand, no deaf ear; no blind side. 
It puts on no looks of wondrous wisdom, it has no air of profundity, but 
plays with the details of place as dextrously as a well-taught hand flour- 
ishes over the keys of the piano-forte. It has all the air of commonplace, 
and all the force and power of genius. — London Atlas. 



INDUSTRY THE ONLY TRUE SOURCE OF WEALTH. 

INDUSTRY is the natural sure way to success ; this is so true that it is 
impossible an industrious free people should want the necessaries and 
comforts of life, or an idle one enjoy them under any form of government. 
Money is so far useful to the public, as it promoteth industry, and credit 
having the same effect, is of the same value with money; but money or 
credit circulating through a nation from hand to hand, without producing 
labor and industry in the inhabitants, is direct gaming. 

It is not impossible for cunning men to make such plausible schemes, 
as may draw those who are less skilful into their own and the public ruin. 
But surely there is no man of sense and honesty but must see and own, 



THE BUSINESS LIFE. 263 

whether he understands the game or not, that it is an evident folly for any 
people, instead of prosecuting the old honest methods of industry and 
frugality, to sit down to a public gaming-table and play off their money 
one to another. 

The more methods there are in a state for acquiring riches without 
industry or merit, the less there will be of either in that state : this is as 
evident as the ruin that attends it. Besides, when money is shifted from 
hand to hand in such a blind, fortuitous manner, that some men shall from 
nothing acquire in an instant vast estates, without the least desert ; while 
others are as suddenly stripped of plentiful fortunes, and left on the parish 
by their own avarice and credulity, what can be hoped for on the one hand, 
but abandoned luxury and wantonness, or on the other but extreme madness 
and despair! 

MAKE NOT HASTE TO GET RICH. 

In short, all projects for growing rich by sudden and extraordinary 
methods, as they operate violently on the passions of men, and encourage 
them to despise the slow moderate gains that are to be made by an honest 
industry, must be ruinous to the public, and even the winners themselves 
will at length be involved in the public ruin. * * * 

God grant the time be not near when men shall say : " This island 
was once inhabited by a religious, brave, sincere people, of plain, uncorrupt 
manners, respecting inbred worth rather than titles and appearances, 
assertors of liberty, lovers of their country, jealous of their own rights, and 
unwilling to infringe the rights of others ; improvers of learning and useful 
arts, enemies to luxury, tender of other men's lives, and prodigal of their 
own; inferior in nothing to the old Greeks or Romans, and superior to each 
of those people in the perfections of the other. Such were our ancestors 
during their rise and greatness ; but they degenerated, grew servile flatterers 
of men in power, adopted Epicurean notions, became venal, corrupt, 
injurious, which drew upon them the hatred of God and man, and occa- 
sioned their final ruin." — Dr. George Berkeley. 



ADVICE TO YOUNG MEN. 

YOUNG men, you are the architects of your own fortunes. Rely upon 
your own strength of body and soul. Take for your star self-reliance, 
faith, honesty and industry. Inscribe on your banner: "Luck is a fool, 
pluck is a hero." Don't take too much advice — keep at your helm and steer 
your own ship, and remember that the great art of commanding is to take 
a fair share of the work. Don't practice too much humanity. Think well 



264 THE BUSINESS LIFE. 

of yourself. Strike out. Assume your own.position. Put potatoes in your 
cart, over a rough road, and small ones go to the bottom. Rise • above the 
envious and jealous. Fire above the mark you intend to hit. Energy, 
invincible, determination, with a right motive, are the levers that move the 
world. Don't drink. Don't chew. Don't smoke. Don't swear. Don't 
deceive. Don't read novels. Don't marry until you can support a wife. 
Be in earnest. Be self-reliant. Be generous. Be civil. Read the papers. 
Advertise your business. Make money and do good with it. Love your 
God and fellow-men. Love truth and virtue. Love your country, and obey 
its laws. If this advice be implicitly followed by the young men of the 
country, the millennium is at hand. — Noah Porter. 



THE EPOCH OF ELEVATORS. 

THIS is an epoch of elevators. We do not climb to our rooms in the 
hotel ; we ride. We do not reach the upper stories of great buildings 
by slow and patient steps ; we are lifted there. The Simplon is crossed by 
a railroad, and steam has usurped the place of the Alpen-stock on the Righi. 
The climb that used to give us health on Mount Holyoke, and a beautiful 
prospect, with the reward of rest, is now purchased for twenty-five cents of 
a stationary engine. 

If our efforts to get our bodies into the air by machinery were not 
imitated in our efforts to get our lives up in the same way, we might not 
find much fault with them ; but, in truth, the tendency everywhere is to get 
up in the world without climbing. Yearnings after the infinite are in 
fashion. Aspirations for eminence — even ambitions for usefulness — are 
altogether in advance of the willingness for the necessary preliminary 
discipline and work. The amount of vaporing among young men and 
women, who desire to do something that somebody else is doing — something 
far in advance of their present powers — is fearful and most lamentable. 
They are not willing to climb the stairway ; 

THEY MUST GO UP IN AN ELEVATOR. 

They are not willing to scale the rocks in a walk of weary hours, under a 
broiling sun, they would go up in a car with an umbrella over their heads. 
They are unable or unwilling to recognize the fact that in order to do that 
very beautiful thing which some other man is doing, they must go slowly 
through the discipline, through the maturing process of time, through the 
patient work, which have made him what he is, and fitted him for his 
sphere of life and labor. In short, they are not willing to do their next duty, 



THE BUSINESS LIFE. 265 

and take what comes of it. What, exactly, is the secret of true success in 
life? It is to do without flinching - , and with utter faithfulness, the duty 
that stands next to one. When a man has mastered the duties around 
him, he is ready for those of a higher grade, and he takes naturally one 
step upward. When he has mastered the duties of the new grade, he goes 
on climbing. There are no surprises to the man who arrives at eminence 
legitimately. It is entirely natural that he should be there, and he is as 
much at home there and as little elated as when he was working patiently 
at the foot of the stairs. There are heights above him and he remains 
humble and simple. — Holland. 



WINNING FORCES IN LIFE. 

IT is not ability but availability that wins the prize. Availability is the 
capacity to use to advantage all of one's powers. You see men of 
splendid abilities who can never use them to any success. They are chronic 
failures. They have no availability. They do not know how to take hold 
of things by the handles. Their deficiency is in practical hard sense, in 
tact, in readiness to seize the present opportunity. They may have superior 
education added to natural abilities, but a college diploma does not assure 
success. An educated pig remains a pig. And an educated fool remains 
— himself. 

In a parish meeting in England, a snobbish lord made some propo- 
sition, to which a farmer of sterling sense objected as absurd. The titled 
imbecile glowered on the objector, and pompously said : " Do you presume 
to object to my proposition ? You are an ignorant farmer, and I have been 
educated at two universities." " Well, what of that?" coolly rejoined the 
farmer. " I had a calf once that sucked two cows, and the more he sucked 
the greater calf he grew !" No matter how many colleges you have 
graduated from, the age respects the man who can bring things to pass. 
Your best diploma is the book of acts. 

TRAIN YOURSELF TO MEET YOUR OPPORTUNITY. 

No man can succeed without a chance, but the chance is useless 
unless one can avail himself of it. Hence the secret of availability is to 
train and prepare one's self, by doing resolutely and faithfully the humblest 
work, to seize the better opportunities and mount to success. Many young 
people want to begin at the top. Only men can hold the summit of success 
who have fought their way there from the bottom. 



THE BUSINESS LIFE. 



Take hold of the humblest piece of work that comes along in your 
vocation, and push it to success as if -it were the grandest thing you ever 
expected to do, and you will have higher work to do to-morrow. Use the 
first opportunity manfully, and that will make a second opportunity. The 
young man who waits for the second opportunity to come first, will get left. 
Make yourself necessary in yonder store, office, or bank, and you will be 
wanted in higher positions and at higher salary. " The world is full of 
people who do things ' fairly well ;' it is in daily and pressing need of those 
who do them ' supremely well. ' " 

INVINCIBLE DETERMINATION. 

Invincible determination ! In this I touch one of the great diapason 
keys of success. Will-power is Titanic strength of character. The 
omnipotence of Jehovah is in his will. The awful power of a man is in his 
will. And a woman's will, if fully exerted, can unhorse death from the 
pale horse. I will prove that strong statement by an incident that, I pledge 
you my honor, is an unvarnished fact. 

Rev. C F was an able and honored clergyman in Brooklyn 

and vicinity. His wife was on her death-bed. The end was so near, that 
she had taken leave of her friends, and then asked all to withdraw while 
she said farewell words to her husband. Alone with him, she took him by 

the hand and said : " C , will you promise me that you will be true to 

my memory?" "What do you mean, my dear?" "I want you to promise 
me not to marry again." "Please, do not speak of such a thing, my dear ; 
such a thought never entered my mind." "But," she continued, " I want 
you to promise it, will you?" Then his English blood was aroused a little, 
and he replied : "I don't think it right to extort such a promise." With 
solemn tones, she asked : " For the third and last time I ask, will you 
promise me never to marry again ?" As emphatically he answered: "No; 

I can not do it." "Then, C— — F , I won't die!" And she did not. She 

got well ; lived some fifteen years ; lived till she saw him where no second 
wife comes, and then followed him. Her will unhorsed death ! 

ONE STEP BETWEEN SUCCESS AND DEFEAT. 

There is often but one step between success and defeat, and that step 
is bridged by determination. There are times when the only hope is in 
pulling wide open the throttle-valve of your engine and driving on. Many 
a rich prize is lost because a man relaxes his grip in the crises of the 
struggle. Victory is in pushing on. Arnold, of Rugby, said: "The 
difference between one boy and another, consists not so much in talent, as 
in energy." Sir Thos. Fowell Buxton said : " The great difference between 




entire jfapet's P\efuri 



THE BUSINESS LIFE. 269 

men, between the great and the insignificant, is energy, invincible 
determination, an honest purpose once fixed, and then death or victory." 
Think of Wm. Lloyd Garrison, starting on his crusade against slavery 
with the wealth, the prejudices, the political parties, the churches (mQstly), 
and the traditions of the republic, marshalled in overwhelming force against 
him inditing these immortal words in the first copy of the " Liberator:" " I 
am in earnest. I will not equivocate. I will not excuse. I will not retreat a 
single inch, and I will be heard !" Those brave words rung the death-knell 
•of slavery. That one man, determined to stand for the right, was God's 
red thunderbolt to shiver that colossal iniquity. 

MORAL PRINCIPLE AND JUSTICE. 

Will-power, united with moral principle and justice, is almost 
omnipotent. Face a panther and he will cower ; show fear, and he will 
spring at your throat. Difficulties are panthers ; face them boldly and they 
are conquered. Prof. Matthews says to young men : " We all like to drive 
along smoothly ; to have the backs padded and the seats cushioned. But 
.such is not the road to success in any profession or calling ; and if you are 
poor and feel that you can not climb the steeps of life unassisted ; that you 
must be carried in a vehicle, instead of trudging on foot along the dusty 
highway ; then confess your weakness, and seek your Hercules in the first 
heiress who is as wanting in judgment as you are in nerve and resolution. 
Marry $5,000 a year, if you can, and be a stall-fed ox for the rest of your 
days. The world will touch its hat to you and give you plenty of 
ceremonious respect, but its real regard, its loftiest esteem, it will reserve 
for the moral hero, who has nerve to throw his hat into the ring and fight 
out the battle of life in a manly and creditable way." 

THE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF. 

This inflexible determination becomes the commander-in-chief of all 
the forces in a man. It arouses a preternatural power in the whole man ; 
brings every latent force into action at the right moment and the right 
place, and holds them there with iron firmness, steadily and pluckily till the 
victory is won. Demand such a man to surrender, and, like the naval hero, 
Paul Jones, he audaciously replies, "Surrender? I have just begun to 
fight !" 

There is something sublime in this self-poise — calm, when others are 
distracted; cool, when others are frenzied; inflexible, when others are 
wavering; clothed with highest power in those moments which are 
burdened with adversities that would crush others as the worm is crushed 
beneath the foot — and the man of invincible determination who has 



2 yo THE BUSINESS LIFE. 



conquered himself, has already won the greatest victory of earth. All other 
triumphs will follow with comparative ease. 

The world has small use for Micawberish men, or for dapper dandies, 
whose proudest achievement is to dance attendance on the butterflies of 
society. A grasshopper has more agility and a butterfly more beauty than 
these creatures that ape them, but marry the human grasshopper and 
butterfly, and you have a poor team for the work of life. 

The world respects strong, stalwart, iron-sided men ; success waits 
upon men who are transformed from callow eaglets into strong-thewed 
eagles, who scream defiance at the storm, as they rise and strike their 
pinions against the wings of the whirlwind. 

" Be firm ; one constant element of luck 

Is genuine, solid, old Teutonic pluck. 
Stick to your aim ; the mongrel's hold will slip, 

But only crow-bars loose the bull-dog's grip. 
Small though he looks, the jaw that never yields 

Drags down the bellowing monarch of the fields." 

There is plenty of room, and work, and welcome, in the world, for men 
and women of availability, enthusiasm, concentration and determined 
purpose. They are always at a premium. But the dilettanti and the drones 
we can spare as cheerfully as the clergyman could a certain annoying 
admirer. This lady, carried away by the oratorical flights of her eloquent 
pastor, often disconcerted him by her half-audible ejaculations — " Beautiful ! 
Wonderful! Sublime!" One day, when his imagination had soared so far 
away among the stars that she could not follow, she broke forth : " Oh, for 
another feather in the wing of my imagination that I, too, might soar into 
those heavenly heights !" The vexed pastor exclaimed, " Good Lord, give 
her that feather and let her go V — J. O. Peck. 



THERE'S ALWAYS A RIVER TO CROSS. 



T 



HERE'S always a river to cross, 

Always an effort to make, 
If there's anything good to win, 

Any rich prize to take ; 
Yonder's the fruit we crave, 

Yonder the charming scene ; 
But deep and wide, with a troubled tide, 

Is the river that lies between. 



THE BUSINESS LIFE. 271 

For the treasures of precious worth. 

We must patiently dig and dive ; 
For the places we long to fill 

We must push, and struggle, and drive ; 
And always and everywhere 

We'll find in our onward course, 
Thorns for the feet, and trials to meet, 

And a difficult river to cross. 

The rougher the way that we take, 

The stouter the heart and the nerve ; 
The stones in our path we break, 

Nor e'er from our impulse swerve ; 
For the glory we hope to win, 

Our labors we- count no loss ; 
'Tis folly to pause and murmur because 

Of the river we have to cross. 

So, ready to do and to dare, 

Should we in our places stand, 
Fulfilling the Master's will, 

Fulfilling the soul's demand ; 
For though as the mountains high 

The billows may rear and toss, 
They'll not overwhelm if the Lord's at the helm — 

One more river to cross. 

— Josephine Pollard. 



ENTHUSIASM. 

THIS is a fire that glows in every successful man. A man without 
enthusiasm is an engine without steam. Your train won't move 
unless the water is boiling. Carry a full head of steam, young friends. 
Time and experience will tone down any excess. Don't bank the fires in 
your furnace. Don't try to be a conservative old man while you are young. 
Enthusiasm is the driving force of character. There are energies 
slumbering in you that may prove mighty if once kindled by enthusiasm. 
Enthusiasm makes strong men; wakes up latent powers; arouses 
unsuspected resources of ability; sustains prolonged endeavors, and renders 
possible the achievement of purposes demanding unwearied energies. It 
generates the invincible pulses that hurl manhood on noble achievements. 



^2 THE BUSINESS LIFE. 

— _ — _ — _ — _ . 1 « 

Men of enthusiasm have been the life of the Church and State, science and 
philosophy, art and music, business and reform. No man accomplishes 
much without it ; all achieve more with it. 

Remember this next sentence, if you forget all else ; for there is the 
"open secret" of success in it. Other things being equal, the degree of 
enthusiasm in any man is the precise measure of his aggressive, conqziering pozver. 
Of two men precisely alike in every other quality, but one phlegmatic and 
cold, the other aglow with enthusiasm, the enthusiastic man has three 
chances of success to one of the former. A young man or woman without 
enthusiasm in the work of life, has lost the race, before starting. Whatever 
may be the wisdom of the council chamber, it is the enthusiasm of men on 
the field of battle that wins the day. In great achievements, in critical 
moments, enthusiasm borders on rashness, as genius borders on insanity. 
The man becomes a moral tornado! Bulwer says : "A certain degree of 
temerity is a power. It intimidates a foe ; it arouses a supernatural heroism 
in one's own forces." 

MULES FOR AMMUNITION. 

Before Pacific Railroads, a company of soldiers were crossing the 
mountains. Everything was transported by mule-train. They had a 
mountain howitzer lashed to the back of a mule. As they were passing along 
the side of a mountain, fully exposed, they were attacked by Indians from 
below, ambushed behind huge rocks. The attack was so sudden that they 
had no time to " unlimber " the gun and get it into position. So the 
enthusiastic young captain whirled the mule around and fired from the 
mule's back. So great was the recoil of the cannon that it hurled gun and 
mule, end over end, down the hill toward the savages, who fled like sheep 
as they saw that strange shot coming. The next day the chief was captured 
and brought in. The young captain asked him why he fled so yesterday, 
when they had lost their gun, and the whole party might have been captured 
and scalped. The old chief straightened himself up and said : " Look at me ! 
Me big Injun. Me no 'fraid little guns. Me no 'fraid big guns. But when 
white men fire whole mule at Injun, me don't know what come next." 

A TIMID ATTACK INVITES DEFEAT. 

When the line of battle advances with enthusiastic shout, the enemy 
trembles before the blow is struck, and the charge is doubly terrific. A 
timid attack is always nascent defeat. Only under the outburst of 
enthusiasm does the soul of man or woman reveal its masterful power. In 
Italy, at the exhibition of a menagerie, a fierce tiger broke from his cage, 
.seized a little boy from his mother's side, and bounded away with him in 



THE BUSINESS LIFE. 273 

his mouth to a clump of trees near by, the mother following in hot haste. 
The tiger turned, facing the mother, with the boy in his mouth. Reaching 
the spot almost as soon as the tiger, she fixed her eye intently on the eye of 
the beast, and, with arms outstretched, with authority in look, voice, and 
gesture, and with audacious enthusiasm, rushed toward the tiger, crying, 
" Give me my child !" The brute cowered, dropped the boy — not fatally 
injured — and the mother snatched him from under those bloody jaws, and 
bore him away in triumph, the tiger cowering like a whipped spaniel. 
When the powers of man or woman are aroused, by some grand enthusiasm, 
to assert their tremendous energies, then flashes on the brow the Royal 
Crown bequeathed to man in the beginning by his Creator : " Have dominion 
over all the work of my hands." When oppressed colonies, or a people, 
subjected to the indignities and tyranny; aroused by the smart of their 
wrong; inspired by their inalienable rights ; and impelled by overwhelming 
enthusiasm for liberty, rise in their might and demand — "Give us our 
rights " — then a nation is born in a day. 

THE DRIVING POWER OF BUSINESS 

' Without this driving power in his business, any man is less or more 
a failure. Pithily said a Western editor to a man sneering at excitement: 
"There is only one thing done in this world without excitement." "What 
is that?" "To rot!" he replied. No man carries his work or profession to 
the highest success who is not incessantly impelled by a grand enthusiasm. 
Like an incoming tide, at last, it sweeps away or breaks over all obstacles. 
It sustains the workers amid the discouragements and difficulties inseparable 
from great achievements, and cheers the toilers in humble spheres, amid 
their struggles and adversities. Without this enthusiasm, men yield before 
the obstacles that beset their paths. They tire, faint, and give over the 
struggle in despair. 

AN EXHILARATED CONDITION. 

A man, at midnight, came home in an exhilarated condition. The 
house was dark, and he planned how he might get to rest without awaking 
his loving spouse. He would hold on to the chair with one hand, disrobe 
with the other, and quietly get to bed, so as to avoid a temperance lecture. 
Unfortunately for his plans, his wife had placed the cradle — an institution 
fast disappearing in modern days — right athwart the chamber door. In the 
darkness, he saw it not. Stealthily attempting entrance to the room, he 
stumbled over the cradle on the chamber floor. Excitedly rising, he 
staggered backward and fell over it into the hall. He attempted to right- 
flank it and get past the head of the cradle and stumbled toward the foot 

17 



274 THE BUSINESS LIFE. 

of the cradle. Then by the left-flank, he fell back toward the head. The 
fifth time, he attempted an oblique movement and plunged headlong under 
the bed. He surrendered in despair, piteously crying out: "Wife, for 
Heaven's sake, how many cradles have you got in our house ? I've fallen 
over five, and the sixth is right in the doorway!" 

A man of enthusiasm will not despair at six cradles — six obstacles. 
Wherever men or women have done glorious deeds, or lived noble lives, 
enthusiasm has fed the sacred fires of high endeavor. Young man, don't 
dampen your powder, keep it dry and ready to burn with explosive force. 
It is the richest period of your life. Let nothing extinguish the sunbursts 
of early manhood. 

VICTORY IN ENTHUSIASM. 

There is power, there is victory in your breezy enthusiasm. It is a 
fortune in itself, and breeds fortunes. " Put a Yankee ashore on a desolate 
island in the Pacific Ocean, with only a jack-knife, and he will get home as 
soon as, if not sooner, than the ship that deserted him. Put him in 
anywhere, and he will get out if he wants to. Put him out anywhere, and 
he will get in if he wants to." 

This enthusiasm impels to victory. It may be whipped, but it will 
not stay whipped. It often wrings victory from the jaws of defeat. At 
the storming of Vicksburg, an attempt was made to capture a rebel 
battery, but the terrific fire caused the Union troops to fall back. Peter 
Appel, of the Eleventh Indiana Regiment, impelled by his enthusiasm, 
rushed on, oblivious of the retreat, until he reached one of the guns, 
collared a gunner, and rushed back with him into the Union lines, shouting: 
" Boys, why didn't you come on ? Every fellow might have got one." A 
thousand such men as that would capture anything. 

" Press on ! surmount the rocky steep, 

Climb boldly o'er the torrent's arch ; 
He fails alone who feebly creeps, 

He wins who dares the hero's march. 
Be thou a hero ! Let thy might 

Tramp on eternal snows its way, 
And through the ebon walls of night, 

Hew down a passage unto day. 

Press on ! If once or twice thy feet 
Slip back and stumble, harder try. 



THE BUSINESS LIFE. . 275 



From him who never dreads to meet 

Danger, and death, they're sure to fly. 
To coward ranks the bullet speeds, 

While on their breasts who never quail 
Gleams (guardian of chivalric deeds) 

Bright courage like a coat of mail. 

Press on ! If fortune plays thee false 

To-day, to-morrow she'll be true, 
Whom now she sinks, she now exalts, 

Taking old gifts and granting new. 
The wisdom of the present hour 

Makes up for follies past and gone. 
To weakness strength succeeds, and power 

From frailty springs. Press on ! Press on !" 

— /. O. Peck. 



HOW TO DO TO GET ALONG. 

MR. VANDERBILT pays his cook $10,000 a year, my boy, which is a 
great deal more than you and I earn — or, at least, it is a great deal 
more than we get — because he can cook. That is all. Presumably because 
he can cook better than any other man in America. That is all. If 
Monsieur Sauceangravi could cook tolerably well, and shoot a little, and 
speak three languages tolerably well, and keep books fairly, and sing some, 
and understand gardening pretty well, and could preach a fair sort of a 
sermon, and knew something about horses, and could telegraph a little, and 
could do light porter's work, and could read proof tolerably well, and could do 
plain house and sign painting, and could help on a threshing machine, and 
knew enough law to practice in the justices' courts of Kickapoo Township, 
and had once run for the Legislature, and knew how to weigh hay, he 
wouldn't get $10,000 a year for it. He gets that just because he knows how 
to cook, and it wouldn't make a cent's difference in his salary if he thought 
the world was flat, and that it went around its orbit on wheels. There's 
nothing like knowing your business clear through, my boy, from withers to 
hock, whether you know anything else or not. What's the good of knowing 
everything? Only the sophomores are omniscient. — Burdette. 



Be not censorious, for thou knowest not whom thou judgest. 



276 • THE BUSINESS LIFE. 



LOOK TO THE LITTLES. 

THERE is nothing tod little for so little a creature as man. It is by- 
studying little things that we attain the great art of having as little 
misery and as much happiness as possible. It is apt to be thought indica- 
tive of a narrow mind and petty spirit to be scrupulous about the littles. 
Yet from littles have sprung the mass of great vices and crimes. In habits, 
in manners, in business, we have only to watch the littles, and all will come 
out clear. 

Discoveries are made mostly by little things. The art of printing 
owes its origin to rude impressions (for the amusement of children) of 
letters carved on the bark of a beech tree. Gunpowder was discovered by 
the falling of a spark on some material in a mortar. We have the steam- 
engine because some one noted the common and little thing — the issuance 
of steam. The almost essential appliances of electricity date from the 
time when a person observed that a piece of rubbed glass or other similar 
substance attracted small bits of paper. 

Madame Galvani noticed the contraction of the muscles of a skinned 
frog, her husband followed up the hint by experiments and so we have gal- 
vanism. Pendulum clocks come from the swinging church lamp that Galileo 
noticed. The children of a spectacle-maker placed several pairs of spectacles 
one before the other, and, looking through them, saw distant objects, and 
then was born the telescope, that scans the heavens and brings to the eye 
of man the hidden glories of the skies. 

One of the brothers Argand remarked that a tube held over a candle 
caused it to burn with a bright flame, and hence the Argand lamp. 

It is the close observation of little things that is the secret of success 
in business, in art, in science, and in every pursuit in life. 



LITTLE THINGS. 

TRAVELLER, through a dusty road, 
l Strewed acorns on the lea ; 
And one took root and sprouted up 

And grew into a tree. 
Love sought its shade at evening time 

To breathe his early vows ; 
And Age was pleased, in heats of noon, 

To bask beneath its boughs. 
The dormouse loved its dangling twigs, 

The birds sweet music bore ; 



THE BUSINESS LIFE. 277 



It stood a glory in its place, 
A blessing evermore. 

A little spring had lost its way 

Amid the grass and fern ; 
A passing stranger scooped a well 

Where weary men might turn. 
He walled it in, and hung with care 

A ladle at the brink ; 
He thought not of the deed he did, 

But judged that Toil would drink. 
He passed again — and lo, the well, 

By summers never dried, 
Had cooled ten thousand parching tongues, 

And saved a life beside. 

A dreamer dropped a random thought ; 

'Twas old — and yet 'twas new ; 
A. simple fancy of the brain, 

But strong in being true. 
It shone upon a genial mind,. 

And lo, its light became 
A lamp of life, a beacon ray, 

A monitory flame. 
The thought was small — its issue great: 

A watch-fire on the hill, 
It sheds its radiance far down 

And cheers the valley still. 

A nameless man, amid a crowd, 

That thronged the daily mart, 
Let fall a word of hope and love, 

Unstudied, from the heart. 
A whisper on the tumult thrown, 

A transitory breath, 
It raised a brother from the dust, 

It saved a soul from death. 
O germ ! O fount ! O word of love ! 

O thought at random cast ! 
Ye were but little at the first, 

But mighty at the last. — Charles Mackay 



278 THE BUSINESS LIFE. 



SELF-RELIANCE. 

I SUPPOSE no man can violate his nature. All the sallies of his will are 
rounded by the law of his being, as the inequalities of Andes and 
Himalaya are insignificant in the curve of the sphere. Nor does it matter 
how you gauge or try him. A character is like an acrostic or Alexandrian 
stanza ; read it forward, backward, or across, it still spells the same thing. 
In this pleasing, contrite, wood-life which God allows me, let me record day 
by day my honest thought without prospect or retrospect ; and, I can not 
doubt, it will be found symmetrical, though I mean it not, and see it not. 
My book should smell of pines, and resound with the hum of insects. The 
swallow over my window should interweave that thread or straw he carries 
in his bill into my web also. We pass for what we are. Character teaches 
above our wills. 

MEN IMAGINE THAT THEY COMMUNICATE THEIR VIRTUE OR VICE 

only by overt actions, and do not see that virtue or vice emit a breath every 
moment. Fear never but you shall be consistent in whatever variety of 
actions, so they be each honest and natural in their hour. For if one will, 
the actions will be harmonious, however unlike they seem. These varieties 
are lost sight of when seen at a little distance, at a little height of thought. 
One tendency unites them all. The voyage of the best ship is a zigzag line 
of a hundred tacks. This is only microscopic criticism. See the line from 
a sufficient distance, and it straightens itself to the average tendency. 
Your genuine action will explain itself, and will explain your other genuine 
actions. Your conformity explains nothing. Act singly, and what you 
have already done singly will justify you now. 

GREATNESS ALWAYS APPEALS 

to the future. If I can be great enough now to do right and scorn eyes I 
must have done so much right before as to defend me now. Be it how it 
will, do right now." Always scorn appearances, and you always may. The 
force of character is cumulative. All the foregone days of virtue work 
their health into this. What makes the majesty of the heroes of the senate 
and the field, which so fills the imagination? The consciousness of a train 
of great days and victories behind. There they all stand and shed a united 
light on the advancing actor. He is attended as by a visible escort of angels 
to every man's eye. That is it which throws thunder into Chatham's voice, 
and dignity into Washington's port, and America into Adams' eye. Honor 
is venerable to us, because it is no ephemeris. It is always ancient virtue. 
We worship it to-day, because it is not of to-day. We love it, and pay it 
homage, because it is not a trap for our love and homage, but is self- 






THE BUSINESS LIFE. 279 

dependent, self-derived, and therefore of an old, immaculate pedigree, even 
if shown in a young person. I hope in these days we have heard the last 
of conformity and consistency. Let the words be gazetted, and ridiculous 
henceforward. Instead of the gong for dinner, let us hear a whistle from 
the Spartan fife. Let us bow and apologize never more. A great man is 
coming to eat at my house. I do not wish to please him; I wish that he 
should wish to please me. I will stand here for humanity, and though I 
would make it kind, I would make it true. Let us affront and reprimand 
the smooth mediocrity and squalid contentment of the times, and hurl in 
the face of custom, and trade, and office, the fact which is the upshot of all 
history, that there is a great responsible Thinker and Actor moving 
wherever moves a man ; 

THAT A TRUE MAN BELONGS TO NO OTHER TIME OR PLACE, 

but is the centre of things. Where He is there is Nature. He measures 
you, and all men, and all events. You are constrained to accept His 
standard. Ordinarily, everybody in society reminds us of somewhat else, 
or of some other person. Character, reality, reminds you of nothing else. 
It takes place of the whole creation. The man must be so much that he 
must make all circumstances indifferent — put all means into the shade. 
This all great men are and do. Every true man is a cause, a country, and 
an age ; requires infinite spaces, and numbers, and time, fully to accomplish 
his thought ; and posterity seems to follow his steps as ■ a procession. A 
man Caesar is born, and for ages after we have a Roman Empire. Christ 
is born, and millions of minds so grow and cleave to his genius, that he is 
confounded with virtue and the possible of man. An institution is the 
lengthened shadow of one man; as the Reformation of Luther; Quakerism 
of Fox; Methodism of Wesley; Abolition of Clarkson. Scipio, Milton 
called "the height of Rome;" and all history resolves itself very easily into 
the biography of a few stout and earnest persons. — Emerson. 



PUNCTUALITY. 

THERE can be few worse traits in a man's character than unpunctuality. 
If a man's word can not be depended upon when he makes engage- 
ments, he will be mistrusted, because people can not rely upon him. Lost 
wealth may be replaced by industry, lost knowledge by study, lost health 
by temperance, but lost time is gone forever. Nelson once said : " I owe 
all my success in life to having been always a quarter of an hour before 
my time." Punctuality is one of the modes by which we show our respect 



280 THE BUSINESS LIFE. 

for those with whom, we have made engagements. It is also a proof of our 
conscientiousness, for an appointment is a contract, expressed or implied, 
and he who does not keep it, breaks faith and uses other people's time 
dishonestly. He who is careless about time is careless about business, and 
therefore is not to be trusted. To steal another's time by delay, is nearly 
or quite as bad as to steal his property. Money is earned by time and 
labor, and he who steals my time, steals my money. O, how many 
otherwise good people there are who are guilty of theft ! 

RUINED BY BEING BEHINDHAND. 

How many persons have been ruined by being behindhand a day or 
even an hour! That man failed to renew his insurance policy yesterday, 
he was going to do it to-day, but last night the fire-fiend swept away his 
property. That merchant was made bankrupt because his creditors delayed 
the payment of accounts and his notes were protested. That young man 
was a few moments late, and lost a situation ; another, on time, secured it ; 
and the punctual man is to-day a member of the firm, while the other is 
poor and still behind time. One man fails to meet his obligations, and a 
score of men are ruined, because men in the business world are like a row 
of bricks — topple over the first brick and the whole row falls. But this 
holds good in all the relations of life. 



THE WITCHERY OF MANNER. 

ALMOST every man can recall scores of cases within his knowledge 
where pleasing manners have made the fortunes of lawyers, doctors, 
divines, merchants, and, in short, men in every walk of life. Raleigh flung 
down his laced coat into the mud for Elizabeth to walk on, and got for his 
reward a proud queen's favor. The politician who has this advantage easily 
distances all rival candidates, for every voter he speaks with becomes 
instantly his friend. The very tones in which he asks for a pinch of snuff 
are often more potent than the logic of a Webster or a Clay. Polished 
manners have often made a scoundrel successful, while the best of men, by 
their hardness and coldness, have done themselves incalculable injury; the 
shell being so rough that the world could not believe there was a precious 
kernel within. Civility is to a man what beauty is to a woman. It creates 
an instantaneous impression in his behalf, while the opposite quality excites 
as quick a prejudice against him. It is a real ornament, the most beautiful 
dress that man or woman can wear, and worth more as a means of winning 
favor than the finest clothes and jewels ever worn. The gruffest man loves 




/i &<aur)ipy I [<zrr)<z. 



THE BUSINESS LIFE. 283 



to be appreciated ; and it is oftener the sweet smile of a woman, which we 
think intended for us alone, than a pair of Juno-like eyes, or "lips that 
seem on roses fed," that bewitches our heart, and lays us low at the feet 
of her whom we afterward marry. 



HOW TO SUCCEED. 

YOU are about to start in life, and it is well that young men should begin 
at the beginning and occupy the most subordinate positions. Many 
of the business men of Pittsburgh had a serious responsibility thrust upon 
them at the very threshold of their career. They were introduced to the 
broom, and spent the first hours of their business life sweeping out the 
office. 

I was a sweeper myself, and who do you suppose were my fellow- 
sweepers? David McCargo, now Superintendent of the Allegheny Valley 
Railroad ; Robert Pitcairn, Superintendent of the Pennsylvania Railroad, 
and Mr. Moreland, City Attorney of Pittsburgh. 

Begin at the beginning, but aim high. I would not give a fig for 
the young man who does not already see himself the partner or the head 
of some important firm. 

There are three dangers in your path : the first is the drinking of 
liquor, the second is speculation, and the third is " endorsing." 

When I was a telegraph operator in Pittsburgh I knew all the men 
who speculated. They were not our citizens of first repute ; they were 
regarded with suspicion. I have lived to see all of them ruined, bankrupt 
in money and bankrupt in character. There is scarcely an instance of a 
man who has made a fortune by speculation and kept it. The man who 
grasps the morning paper to see how his speculative ventures are likely to 
result unfits himself for the calm consideration and proper solutions of 
business problems with which he has to deal later in the day, and saps the 
sources of that persistent and concentrated energy upon which depend the 
permanent success and often the very safety of his main business. 

THE THOROUGH MAN OF BUSINESS 

knows that only by years of patient, unremitting attention to affairs can he 
earn his reward, which is the result, not of chance, but of well-devised 
means for the attainment of ends. 

Nothing is more essential to young business men than untarnished 
credit, and nothing kills credit sooner than the knowledge in any bank 
board that a man engages in speculation. How can a man be credited 



284 THE BUSINESS LIFE. 

whose resources may be swept away in one honr by a panic among 
gamesters ? Resolve to be business men, but speculators never. 

The third danger is the perilous habit of endorsing notes. It appeals 
to your generous instincts, and you say : " How can I refuse to lend my 
name only to assist a friend?" It is because there is so much that is 
true and commendable in that view that the practice is so dangerous. 
If you owe anything, all your capital and all your effects are a solemn trust 
in your hands to be held inviolate for the security of those who have 
trusted you. When a man in debt endorses for another, it is not his own 
credit or his own capital that he risks — it is the money of his own creditors. 
Therefore, I say that if you are ever called upon to endorse, never do it 
unless you have cash means not required for your own debts, and never 
endorse beyond those means. 

Assuming that you are safe in regard to these your gravest dangers 
— drinking, speculating and endorsing — the question is, How to rise ? The 
rising man must do something exceptional, and beyond the range of his 
special department. He must attract attention. A shipping clerk may do 
so by discovering in an invoice an error with which he has nothing to do, 
and which has escaped the attention of the proper person. If a weighing 
clerk, 

HE MAY SAVE FOR THE FIRM 

by doubting the adjustment of the scales and have them corrected. Your 
employer must find out that he has not got a mere hireling in his service, 
but a man ; not one who is content to give so many hours of work for so 
many dollars in return, but one who devotes his spare hours and constant 
thoughts to the business. 

Our young partners in Carnegie Brothers have won their spurs by 
showing that we did not know half as well what was wanted as they did. 

There is one sure mark of the coming millionaire ; his revenues 
always exceed his expenditures. He begins to save as soon as he begins 
to earn. Capitalists trust the saving young man. For every hundred 
dollars you can produce as the result of hard-won savings, Midas, in search 
of a partner, will lend on credit a thousand; for every thousand, fifty 
thousand. 

NOT CAPITAL, BUT BUSINESS HABITS WANTED. 

It is not capital your seniors require, it is the man who has proved 
he has the business habits which make capital. Begin at once to lay up 
something. It is the first one hundred dollars saved which tells. 

And here is the prime condition of success, the great secret: 
concentrate your energy, thought and capital exclusively upon the business 



THE BUSINESS LIFE 285 






in which you are engaged. Having begun in one line, resolve to fight it 
out on that line, to lead in it ; adopt every improvement, have the best 
machinery, and know the most about it. 

Finally, do not be impatient, for, as Emerson says, " No one can cheat 
you out of the ultimate success but yourselves." — Andrew Carnegie. 



DETERMINATION— ITS STRENGTH AND ITS WEAKNESS. 

AS a general rule, when anything is said of determination, there is 
associated with the word an idea of a strong will and perhaps an 
obstinate disposition. Parents and teachers not unfrequently speak 
complainingly of the determination evinced by certain children as though 
the trait indicated 'mere wilfulness or stubbornness. Yet there is often 
something akin to heroism in a fixed, persistent determination, and it is a 
pity to overlook the fact that this trying characteristic, if only judiciously 
directed and controlled is one of the most desirable qualities a child can 
possess. It means perseverance, fixedness of purpose, and indomitable 
resolution, which, under proper guidance, has been the making of many 
illustrious men and many successful women. It is needed in every 
department of life and in both great and small matters. We read, the 
other day, of a lady who became determined not to allow disagreeable 
things of any kind to haunt or worry her if she could possibly prevent their 
doing so. Articles that were defaced and useless were not permitted to 
remain in sight ; irritating events and vexing remarks were not allowed to 
linger in mind to vex and try her. And just here comes in the spirit of 
heroism alluded to, for vigilance, 

STRENGTH OF WILL, AND CONTINUED PURPOSE, 

are all involved in shutting the eyes to unwelcome sights and the ears to 
vexing sounds. But how much could be gained in the elevation and 
perfecting of character through adherence to such a resolution as this. 
The subject of New Year's resolves has almost become cause for banter, so 
easily are they formed and so easily are they overthrown. Yet the 
discouraging proverb that " man resolves and re-resolves and dies the same," 
need not be accepted as an inevitable fact. Thousands of men once irresolute, 
undecided, and vacillating, have suddenly awakened to the necessity of 
forming and keeping certain resolves, and a power born of the strength of 
the decision has made them master of themselves and of surrounding 
circumstances. When the resolutions formed at the beginning of the 
year fall through, it is not usually so much attributable to adverse events 



286 THE BUSINESS LIFE. 



as to a lack of sterling determination to back them. And this reveals the 
truth that human will is but a weak, uncertain thing at best, and merely 
passing resolves amount to but little of themselves. The reason that so 
many men, despite their multiplied resolves, yet are the same, is because an 
unaided resolve, like the house of the parable, is built upon the sand. A 
mere promise or compact with one's self has no deep, strong foundation, 
making it easy to defy the assaults of inclination or to resist the storms of 
temptation, sure to beat against the frail network of mere intention, and a 
speedy relapse into old faults and follies shows how shallow after all is 
human will and aim unassisted by Divine power. When Christmas bells 
ring clear and free, there comes a feeling of security and help with the 
joyous clanging, and if the lesson of the chimes is properly interpreted, it 
will be found that because of the Saviour's willingness and desire to aid 
the imperfect will, there arises a strong hope that the best resolves and 
most urgent determination of our lives may remain fixed and unalterable. 
And in very truth they will, and strength to resist evil and overcome the 
besetting sins of life will be given through trust in an unchanging God. 

'.' Weak and irresolute is man ; 
The purpose of to-day, 
Woven with pain into his plan, 
To-morrow rends away. 

Oh, the vain conceit of man, 

Dreaming of a good his own, 
Arrogating all he can, 

Though the Lord is good alone ! 

Learn, all earth ! that feeble man, 
Sprung from this terrestrial clod, 

Nothing is, and nothing can ; 
Life and power are all in God." 

— Christian at Work. 



PERSEVERANCE. 



PERSEVERANCE and steady concentration of forces is the grand secret 
of success. There never was a man who could do anything great with 
divided energies. What is genius ? Is it a faculty, or endowment, which 
does away with the necessity of labor ? No ; it is nothing else but the 
concentration of every energy into one great master passion, the rushing of 



THE BUSINESS LIFE. 287 

the war horse into battle, the soaring of the eagle toward the sun. No man 
can excel in all things ; a universal genius is impossible. Napoleon could 
not have written Dr. Watts' hymns, any more than Dr. Watts could have 
won Napoleon's battles ; therefore, we find that the concentration of every 
power, the bending every energy to one result is the only way to accomplish 
success. That was the way with the Grecian athletes ; they were doing 
only one thing, and doing it with their might. So severe and exhausting 
were their efforts, that we can imagine somewhat of their indomitable will 
and energies. Bones were broken, bodies scarred, and the very lives of the 
runners imperilled by their impetuous violence. Not unfrequently they 
dropped fainting upon the race course, and 

THE VICTOR STAINED HIS WREATH 

with a crimson hemorrhage of life blood. Certain it is in all things, that 
without long and earnest exertions there will be little gain. There is not 
likely to be any worthy eminence attained without toil ; the prizes on earth 
are not given to the sluggard, and do you think God will bestow heavenly 
rewards upon those who will not run in the race, nor strive in battle ? We 
must labor along and well before we shall be crowned, for this Christian 
life demands earnestness and assiduity; it is a race with the strong, a battle 
with the mighty. There are great heights of spiritual elevation and peace 
to be climbed, with hardship and difficulty, inch by inch. We may falter 
and grow weary now and then, but we must not give up the conflict. 
" Faithful unto death " is our watchword. 

Perseverance should be the legend engraven in golden letters on our 
hearts, and the habit should be formed in the smallest duties and tasks, 
then we will not be so ready to falter in the heat of battle. It makes all the 
difference between the conqueror and the conquered, the victor and the 
vanquished, and it may make an eternal difference in our hereafter. 



LUCK. 



AS our dictionaries constitute this a legitimate word, with its correct 
spelling and regular definition, we must recognize it and respect it 
along with the rest. The meaning of the word "luck" is set down as 
"chance; good or ill fortune." Far too often, however, the dealings of a 
wise Providence are spoken of as luck, and even more often, if anything, 
the results of one's own acts and deeds are set down as mere matters of luck. 
Not long since a new definition of these terms c:oie under our 
observation which commends itself, we think, to v^ery approving 



288 THE BUSINESS LIFE. 

consideration. Who the writer of the paragraph was we do not know, but 
that his definitions are reliable ones, any right-minded person must readily 
admit ; here they are : " Bad luck is simply a man with his hands in his 
pockets and a pipe in his mouth, looking on to see how it is coming out. 
Good luck is a man of pluck, with his sleeves rolled up, and working to 
make it come out all right." This is the truth about "chance" or "luck" 
in a nutshell. 

EARNING BREAD BY THE SWEAT OF ONE'S BROW. 

A great, great many years ago it was decreed in a most ancient and 
trustworthy book, that by the sweat of the brow should daily bread be 
earned. And ever since that time a certain class of people have tried to 
evade this stern condition and procure daily living without much exertion. 
Others, more wise, accept the perfectly just decree, and bend with a will 
to the strict, yet wholesome rule. But how familiar the picture of the 
indolent, labor-hating man, his listless hands in his pockets, a vile pipe in 
his mouth, waiting to see how things are coming out, or like some weak 
and sanguine Micawber, hoping some good luck will " turn up." Then, 
when the listless waiting proves unprofitable, and the only wonder is the 
man has any pockets to put his hands into, he will turn and begin cursing 
his ill luck. 

COURTING BETTER LUCK. 

Should any one advise his courting better luck by rolling up his 
sleeves and going to work, ten to one the answer would be that he was 
bound to have bad luck anyway ! Human nature always did, and always 
will, try to shirk real and deserved blame by putting it onto some one else 
or something else. Personal delinquencies are not pleasant things to 
recognize or acknowledge. But for all that the truth remains that whatever 
kind of luck we have in this world is largely determined by ourselves. We 
do not like the word, and as before intimated, because it too often is 
substituted for Providence, His dealings or His decrees. Much that is 
adverse in our lives is permitted for our good, but luck has nothing to do 
with it. Our faithful efforts and worthy exertions are often rewarded with 
success, but mere luck bears no part in the matter whatever. It" is easy 
enough to prate of a lazy man's hard luck.. It is also easy and natural 
enough to declare that the hard-working, tireless man of business has had 
good luck. Truth is, he has had good "pluck," a word of fifty times the 
value before being beheaded, and bearing the noble definition of " courage." 
After all, work is the grand panacea for pain, heartache and discouragement. 
It is not often good luck to be able to sit at ease with so much of abundance 



THE BUSINESS LIFE. 289 






that exertion is unnecessary. Listen to what one of our poets tells us in the 
"Labor Song:" 

" Ah ! little they know of true happiness, they whom satiety fills, 
Who, flung on the rich breast of hixury, eat of the rankness that kills. * * 
But blessed that child of humanity, happiest man among men, 
Who, with hammer or chisel or pencil, with rudder or plowshare or pen, 

Laboreth ever and ever. * * * 
He the true ruler and conqueror, he the true king of his race, 
Who nerveth his arm for life's combat, and looks the strong world in the 
face." 

Yes ; "good luck is a man of pluck, with his sleeves rolled up, working 
to make it come out all right." 



COMMON-SENSE EDUCATION. 

ARTEMUS WARD once said he "tried to do too much and did it." 
That is just the weak point in our schools and colleges: much is 
done, but not enough done thoroughly and well. While a little knowledge 
may be a dangerous thing, too much is too much. Many minds are so 
rounded and polished by education as not to be energetic in any one 
faculty: so symmetrical as to have no point; while other men not thus 
trained are led to efforts that render them at last far more learned and 
better educated than the polished and easy-going graduate who has just 
knowledge enough to prevent consciousness of his ignorance. The end of 
life is to be and do, not to read and brood over what men have been and 
done. Shakespeare refers to this exquisite cultivation when he speaks of 
"the native hue of resolution being sicklied o'er with the pale cast of 
thought." 

MEN TOO REFINED TO WORK. 

Pope says truly . "Some men are too refined for action." The vast 
majority of our most ^uoiessful men are not polished scholars. This tends 
to show what is too commonly forgotten in modern plans of education ; 
that it is far better to have the mind well disciplined than richly stored, 
strong rather than full. Good common sense — the power of adaptation to 
circuiAstances, the secret of being alive to what is going on around one, of 
knowing what the people want, and of saying and doing the right thing at 
the right time and place, is the crown of faculties. 

19 



290 THE BUSINESS LIFE 



BE PROGRESSIVE. 

ADVANCE with the advancement of the times, and advance in the front 
ranks. Don't get set in your ways. Be open to new ideas. Be 
enterprising, and you will succeed. The. business houses which follow the 
old methods go to the wall. Let the next thing always be something else. 
It is true that if you are original and enterprising, you will be opposed. 
But opposition will prevent dull times, and criticism is the whetstone by 
which a genuine man is polished and sharpened. People have opposed 
everything new. The inventor of the umbrella was stigmatized for 
interrupting the designs of Providence with regard to the rainy weather; 
for when the showers fell it was evident God meant that men should get 
wet. The man who brought that balm into the world, anaesthetics, was 
also stigmatized. By the aid of this, 

THE MOST VIOLENT SURGICAL OPERATION 

can be performed, while pain is banished into dreamland. The design of 
Providence, it was claimed, was that, if a man's limb must be amputated, 
it should ache, and the inventor frustrated that design. Vaccination was 
stigmatized as the work of the devil; because disease is, by its nature, 
made contagious by God, and man should not interfere with God's doing. 
It was meddling with Providence. That kind of logic has always existed 
in the world ; it exists still. So don't be afraid of criticism. Advance ! If 
you can do anything better to-day than it was done yesterday, do it, 
regardless of what your father or grandfather did, for they and their 
methods have passed away. Be alive; be original; be enterprising. Go 
forward. Don't stand still. The perfectly satisfied man and the clam are 
first cousins. 



LYING. 



THERE are thousands of ways of telling a lie. A man's whole life may 
be a falsehood, and yet never with his lips may he falsify once. There 
is a way of uttering falsehood by look, by manner, as well as by lip. There 
are persons who are guilty of dishonesty of speech and then afterward say 
"maybe;" call it a white lie, when no lie is that color. The whitest lie 
ever told, was as black as perdition. There are those so given to dishonesty 
of speech that they do not know when they are lying. There is something 
in the presence of natural objects that has a tendency to make one pure. 
The trees never issue false stock. The wheat fields are always honest. Rye 
and oats never move out in the night, not paying for the place they occupy. 



THE BUSINESS LIFE. 291 



Corn shocks never make false assignment. Mountain brooks are always 
current. The gold of the wheat field is never counterfeit. But while the 
tendency of agricultural life is to make one honest, honesty is not the 
characteristic of all who come to the city markets from the country 
districts. You hear the creaking of the dishonest farm-wagon in almost 
every street of our great cities, a farm-wagon in which there is not one 
honest spoke or one truthful rivet from' tongue to tail-board. 

The tendency in all rural districts is to suppose that sins and 
transgressions cluster in our great cities, but citizens and merchants long 
ago learned that it is not safe to calculate from the character of the 
apples on the top of the farmer's barrels what is the character of the apples 
all the way down toward the bottom. Many of our citizens and merchants 
have learned that it is always safest to see the farmer measure the barrel 
of beets. Milk cans are not always honest. 

HOW HAVE THE RICHES BEEN GAINED? 

There are large fortunes gathered in which there is not one drop of 
the sweat of unrequited toil, and not one spark of bad temper flashes from 
the bronze bracket, and there is not one drop of needlewoman's heart's blood 
on the crimson plush ; while there are other fortunes about which it may 
be said that on every door-knob and on every figure of the carpet, and on 
every wall there is the mark of dishonor. What if the hand wrung by toil, 
and blistered until the skin comes off should be placed on the exquisite wall- 
paper, leaving its mark of blood— four fingers and a thumb ? or, if in the 
night the man should be aroused from his slumber again and again by his 
own conscience, getting himself up on his elbow and crying out into the 
darkness, "Who is there?" — Talmage. 



THE LIGHT OF KNOWLEDGE. 

KNOWLEDGE can not be stolen from you. It can not be bought or sold. 
You may be poor, and the sheriff come into your house, and sell your 
furniture at auction, or drive away your cow, or take your lamb, and leave 
you homeless and penniless ; but he can not lay the law's hand upon the 
jewelry of your mind. This can not be taken for debt; neither can you give 
it away, though you give enough of it to fill a million minds. 

I will tell you what such giving is like. Suppose, now, that there 
were no sun nor stars in the heavens, nor anything that shone in the black 
brow of night; and suppose that a lighted lamp were put into your hand, 

18 



292 THE BUSINESS LIFE. 

which should burn wasteless and clear amid all the tempests that should 
brood upon this lower world. 

Suppose, next, that there were a thousand millions of human beings 
on the earth with you, each holding in his hand an unlighted lamp, filled 
with the same oil as yours, and capable of giving as much light. Suppose 
these millions should come, one by one, to you and light each his lamp by 
yours, would they rob you of any light? Would less of it shine on your 
own path? Would your lamp burn more dimly for lighting a thousand 
millions ? 

Thus it is, young friends. In getting rich in the things which perish 
with the using, men have often obeyed to the letter that first commandment 
of selfishness: " Keep what you can get, and get what you can." In filling 
your minds with the wealth of knowledge, you must reverse this rule, and 
obey this law: "Keep what you give, and give what you can." 

YOU CAN LEARN NOTHING WHICH YOU DO NOT TEACH. 

The fountain of knowledge is filled by its outlets, not by its inlets. 
You can learn nothing which you do not teach ; you can acquire nothing of 
intellectual wealth, except by giving In the illustration of the lamps, 
which I have given you, was not the light of the thousands of millions 
which were lighted at yours as much your light, as if it all came from your 
solitary lamp? Did you not dispel darkness by giving away light? 

Remember this parable, and, whenever you fall in with an unlighted 
mind in your walk of life, drop a kind and glowing thought upon it from 
yours, and set it a-burning in the world with a light that shall shine in some 
dark place to beam on the benighted. — Elihu Burritt. 



NEVER DESPAIR. 

IF a man loses his property at thirty or forty years of age, it is only a 
sharp discipline generally by which, later, he comes to large success. It 
is all folly for a man or woman to sit down in mid-life discouraged. The 
marshals of Napoleon came to their commander and said : " We have lost 
the battle, and we are being cut to pieces." Napoleon took his watch from 
his pocket, and said : " It is only two o'clock in the afternoon. You have 
lost the battle, but we have time to win another. Charge upon the foe !" 
Let our readers who have been unsuccessful thus far in the battle of life 
not give up in despair. With energy and God's blessing they may yet win 
a glorious victory. 



THE BUSINESS LIFE. 293 



NOTHING BEAUTIFUL DIES. 

THERE is nothing— no, nothing — beautiful and good, that dies and is 
forgotten. An infant, a prattling child, dying in its cradle, will live 
again in the better thoughts of those who loved it, and play its part, though 
its body be burned to ashes or drowned in the deepest sea. There is not 
an angel added to the hosts of Heaven, but does its blessed work on earth 
in those who loved it here. Dead! Oh, if the good deeds of human 
creatures could be traced to their source, how beautiful would even death 
appear ! for how much charity, mercy, and purified affection would be seen 
to have their growth in dusty graves ! — Charles Dickens. 



WHERE THERE'S A WILL THERE'S A WAY. 

AM AN who wills it can go anywhere and do what he determines to do. 
We must make ourselves, or come to nothing. We must swim off, 
and not wait for any one to put cork under us. I congratulate you on being 
poor, and thus compelled to work ; it was all that ever made me what little 
I am. Made virtute. Don't flinch, flounder, fall, nor fiddle, but grapple like 
a man, and you will be a man. 



w 



E have not wings — we can not soar, 
But we have feet to scale and climb, 

By slow degrees, by more and more, 
The cloudy summits of our time. 

— Longfellow* 



IMPROVE YOUR OPPORTUNITIES. 

A man's opportunity usually has some relation to his ability. It is 
an opening for a man of his talents and means. It is an opening for him to 
use v/hat he has, faithfully and to the utmost. It requires toil, self-denial 
and faith. If he says, "I want a better opportunity than that. I am 
worthy of a higher position than it offers; " or if he says, "I won't work as 
hard and economize as. closely as that opportunity demands," he may, in- 
after years, see the folly of his pride and indolence. 

There are young men all over the land who want to get rich, and yet 
they scorn such opportunities as A. T. Stewart and Commodore Vanderbilt 
improved. They want to begin, not as those men did, at the bottom of the 
ladder, but half-way up. They want somebody to give them a lift, or carry 
them up in a balloon, so that they can avoid the early and arduous struggles 



294 THE BUSINESS LIFE. 



of the majority of those who have been successful. No wonder that such 
men fail, and then complain of Providence. Grumbling is usually a 
miserable expedient that people resort to to drown the reproaches of 
conscience. They know that they have been foolish, but they try to 
persuade themselves that they have been unfortunate. 

IDEAS AND PRINCIPLES. 

Ideas go booming through the world louder than cannon. Thoughts 
are mightier than armies. Principles have achieved more victories than 
horsemen or chariots. 

Study economy. Do not let your house be too big for your income. 
At the outset go to sea in a small but well-made bark; you can sail a three- 
master when you have gained experience and can command the necessary 
capital. 

The drying of a single tear has more 

Of honest fame than shedding seas of gore. 

— Byron. 

USE THE GIFTS GOD HAS GIVEN. 

Young man ! if God has given you brains, heart and voice, speak out. 
There are great reforms to be carried on. The whole nation needs 
awakening. Speak out, sir, and your speech will be welcome, wherever 
and on whatever particular branch of reforms you choose to make yourself 
heard. Lift up your voice for that which is "honest, lovely, and of good 
report." Not in mere wordy harangue, not in windy palaver, not in grandilo- 
quent spouting, nor in weary, drawling verbosity — not in the jabbering 
garrulity which is heard only when the speaker must be delivered of a 
speech. But in words of true, sanctified earnestness, opening your mouth 
because you have something useful to say, saying it with the genuine, 
unstudied eloquence which comes right from the heart, and in all cases 
closing your mouth the moment you have done. — John B. Gough. 

PROCRASTINATION THE THIEF OF TIME. 

A great deal of labor is lost to the world for the want of a little 
courage. Every day sends to their graves a number of obscure men, who 
have only remained in obscurity because their timidity has prevented them 
from making a first effort, and who, if they had only been induced to begin, 
would in all probability have gone great lengths in the career of fame. The 
fact is, that in doing anything in the world worth doing, we must not stand 
shivering on the bank, thinking of the cold and danger, but jump in, and 



THE BUSINESS LIFE. 295 



scramble through as well as we can. It will not do to be perpetually 
calculating risks and adjusting nice chances; it did all very well before the 
flood, when a man could consult his friends upon an intended publication 
for a hundred and fifty years, and live to see its success for six or seven 
centuries afterward; but at present a man waits and doubts, and consults 
his brother, and uncles, and his particular friends, till one day he finds that 
he is sixty-five years of age, and that he has lost so much time in consulting 
first cousins and particular friends, that he has no more time to follow their 
advice. There is so little time for over-squeamishness at present, that the 
opportunity slips away. The very period of life at which a man chooses to 
venture, if ever, is so confined that it is no bad rule to preach up the 
necessity, in such instances, of a little violence done to the feelings, and 
efforts made in defiance of strict and sober calculations. 

DARE TO DO RIGHT. 

A young man was in a position where his employers required him to 
make a false statement, by which several hundred dollars would come into 
their hands that did not belong to them. All depended on this clerk's 
serving their purpose. To their vexation, he utterly refused to do so. He 
could not be induced to sell his conscience for any one's favor. As the 
result, he was discharged from the place. Not long after he applied for a 
vacant situation, and the gentlemen, being pleased with his address, asked 
him for any good reference he might have. The young man felt that his 
character was unsullied, and so fearlessly referred him to his last employer. 
" I have just been dismissed from his employ, and you can inquire of him 
about me." It was a new fashion of getting a young man's recommenda- 
tions, but the gentleman called on the firm, and found that the only 
objection was that he was "too conscientious about trifles." The gentleman 
had not been greatly troubled by too conscientious employes, and preferred 
that those intrusted with his money should have a fine sense of truth and 
honesty; so he engaged the young man, who rose fast in favor, and became 
at length a partner in one of the largest firms in Boston. "A good name is 
rather to be chosen than great riches." Even unscrupulous men know the 
worth of good principles that cannot be moved. 

DO RIGHT BECAUSE IT IS RIGHT. 

Honesty is not the best policy; the commonplace honesty of the 
market-place may be — the vulgar honesty that goes no farther than paying 
debts accurately ; but that transparent Christian honesty of a life which in 
every act is bearing witness to the truth, that is not the way to get on in 
life ; the reward of such a life is the Cross. — F. W. Robertson. 



296 THE BUSINESS LIFE. 

HOW REGULUS KEPT HIS WORD. 

When Regulus was sent by the Carthaginians, whose prisoner he was, 
to Rome, with a convoy of ambassadors to sue for peace, it was on condition 
that he should return to his prison if peace was not effected. He took an 
oath to do so. When he appeared at Rome he urged the senators to 
persevere in the war and not to agree to the exchange of prisoners. That 
advice involved his return to captivity. The senators and even the chief 
priest held that as his oath was wrested from him by force, he was not 
bound to go. " Have you resolved to dishonor me ?" asked Regulus. " I 
am not ignorant that tortures and death are preparing for me ; but what are 
these to the shame of an infamous action, or the wounds of a guilty mind? 
Slave as I am to Carthage, I have still the spirit of a Roman. I have sworn 
to return. It is my duty to go. Let the gods take care of the rest." 
Regulus accordingly returned to Carthage and was tortured to death. — 
Smiles. 

INDUSTRY AND FRUGALITY. 

Be not slothful in business. Owe no man anything. Let no man go 
beyond and defraud his brother in any matter. Look not every man on his 
own things, but every man also on the things of another. Bear ye one 
another's burdens. Whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye 
even so unto them. Be good unto all men.— Bible. 

Lose this day loitering, 'twill be the same story 
To-morrow, and the next more dilatory ; 
The indecision brings its own delays, 
And days are lost lamenting over days. 
Are you in earnest? Seize this very minute. 
What you can do, or dream you can, begin it. 
Boldness has genius, magic, and power in it. 
Only engage, and then the mind grows heated, 
Begin, and then the work will be completed. 

STICK TO YOUR LAST. 

"Stick to your business," said Rothschild to a young man ; "stick to 
your brewery and you may be the great brewer of London. But be a 
brewer, and a banker, and a merchant, and a manufacturer, and you will 
soon be in the gazette." This philosophy is correct, though I would rather 
sweep streets than brew that which brews sorrow, and misery, and poverty 
in thousands of homes. 



THE BUSINESS LIFE. 297 

WHAT IS BEING INDEPENDENT? 

They have a story about a procession that was passing- along one of 
the roads in the north of England. A great banner was flung up in front 
of the procession, and it had the word " Independent" in large letters upon 
\x. There was a couple of Englishmen who thought they made out this 
word "Independent," but they were not very sure about its meaning. One 
said to the other, " John, what do you think is the meaning of that word 
Independent?" John looked a little while and reflected. "Why," said he, 
"to be sure, you know, independent. That means not to be depended 
upon." Now I tell you there are very many who suppose that they can 
strike out in life upon an independent basis. They can take care of 
themselves; they know what to do with themselves; they know their 
powers; they know how to make the most of things; they claim that they 
are independent, but do they want to prove that the word means with them 
not to be depended upon? 

WEALTH NOT ALWAYS SUCCESS. 

No, no, success is not reckoned by the millions a man has acquired. 
One may have become rich whose career has seemed a poor, miserable 
failure. Rank! and riches! These are the two rails along which it is 
supposed by some every train is now to run. I tell you there are more 
wrecks on the railroad constructed in that way than upon any railroad ever 
built through this broad land. If you work the good work of righteousness, 
making use of your powers in obedience to Him, you have a true and real 
success here, and a success that stretches onward into the great eternity 
which is before you and me. 

"Oh, keep me innocent; make others great!" Those words were 
written by Queen Caroline Matilda of Denmark, with a diamond on her 
window in the castle of Frendsborg; and, could we but live in that spirit, 
many a one might be saved from such bitter disappointment as makes men 
well-nigh wish that they had never been born. The jewel of innocence is 
more than a crown. 

RICHES NOT TO BE ENVIED. 

Some people's ideal of perfection and admirable success is the 
traditional person who came to the city without a dollar in his pocket and 
died a millionaire. As such a person passes a group of his humbl© 
employes, they all sigh, "How I should like to be him ! " 



2 9 3 THE BUSINESS LIFE. 

Does not this universal envy of those who have "made money'' prove 
to us how slow is the world's advance in wisdom ? 

Take thou no thought for aught but truth and right, 

Content, if such thy fate, to die obscure ; 

Youth fails and honors ; fame may not endure, 
And loftier souls soon weary of delight. 

Keep innocence ; be all a true man ought, 
Let neither pleasure, tempt, nor pain appal ; 

Who hath this, he hath all things having naught; 
Who hath it not, hath nothing having all. 



WANTED.— MEN ! 

WANTED. — The great want of the world is men ; men, who are not for 
sale ; men, who are honest, sound from centre to circumference, true 
to the heart's core ; men, who fear the Lord and covetousness ; men, who will 
condemn wrong in friend or foe, in themselves, as well as in others ; men ( 
whose consciences are as steady as the needle to the pole ; men, who will 
stand for the right, if the heavens totter and the earth reels ; men, who will 
tell the truth, and look the world and the devil right in the eye ; men, who 
neither brag nor run ; men, that neither swagger nor flinch ; men, who have 
courage without whistling for it, and joy without shouting to bring it; men, 
in whom the current of everlasting life runs still and deep and strong; men, 
careful of God's honor and careless of man's applause ; men, too large for 
sectarianism and too strong for political cabals ; men, who do not strive nor 
cry, nor cause their voices to be heard in the streets; but who will not fail 
nor be discouraged till judgment is set in the earth; men, who know 
their message and tell it; men, who know their duty and do it; men, who 
know their place and fill it; men, who mind their own business ; men, who 
will not lie ; men, who are not too lazy to work, nor too proud to be poor; 
men, who are willing to eat what they have earned, and wear what they 
have paid for; men, who know whom they have believed; men, whose feet 
are on the Everlasting Rock; men, who are not ashamed of their hope; 
men, who are strong with Divine strength, wise with the wisdom that 
cometh from above, and, loving with the love of Christ — men of God ! 



SHARP DEALING AND DISTRUST. 

SHARP dealing and distrust Charles Dickens thought the worst vices of 
American commercial, political, and even social life. Every man here 
is his own manager; every man his own protector. It is characteristic of 



THE BUSINESS LIFE. 299 






our pushing, fairly well-educated, shrewd American that the look of his eye 
is : " Cheat me if you can." Far more often do you find this look here than 
abroad. It is charged against us that we are more shrewd than conscien- 
tious in the collisions of trade and politics. It is affirmed, and with some 
truth, I fear, that there is among Americans a tendency to sharp dealing in 
little things that is not found in British and German society. It is very 
humiliating to be obliged to make these confessions ; but, for one, I have 
come home with the conviction that we are capable of a good deal of 
improvement in the matter of honesty in little things. An American may 
be, and usually is, the soul of honor in great things ; but we allow an 
amount of sharp dealing in little things that would disgrace a man in many 
circles abroad. Give the American as much conscientiousness as he has 
will and finesse, and I regard him as incomparably the noblest human 
creature on earth. But there are many things that develop our will and 
tendency to sharp dealing more rapidly than our conscientiousness. — 
Joseph Cook. 

THE USE OF RICHES. 

WHILE we are not to denounce riches, while we are at liberty to seek 
them as normal, falling in with the providence of God, and running 
in the line of grace itself when rightly used, we are to beware of tising- 
them for anything except love — love to our household and love to our 
fellow-men. We are to hold them as a power put into our hands as power 
is put into the hands of a Christian sovereign, not that the throne may be a 
centre and seat of selfishness, but that they may be employed for distri- 
bution, and for the comfort and protection of the whole people. Riches 
acquired and held for selfish purposes suffocate men. They kill our best 
instincts. They put them on false views. They disjoin them from the 
proper sympathy of man with man. They are mischievous, deadly. But 
riches in the hands of true benevolence exalt men. How must a rectified 
spirit in Heaven rejoice to look down on that which upon earth he honestly 
earned and invested for charity and beneficence, and to see it working for 
mankind, age after age, and generation after generation ! No man's riches 
are subject of envy where he uses them properly. If a man's life is devoted 
to doing good ; if on whichever side men touch him he throws upon them 
his sympathy, and manifests toward them an eager desire for their welfare, 
nobody wants him to be less rich. There be multitudes of men that have 
renowned wealth whose failure, if they were to stumble and fall to-morrow, 
legions of men would rejoice over, saying, "Served him right! Served him 
right!" But there are some rich men whose loss, when they depart, all men 
lament. — Beecher. 



300 THE BUSINESS LIFE. 



THE MISUSE OF WEALTH. 

THE centuries have their great sub-tones, the diapason-note which one 
sounds out to another. As the eighteenth century went out in 
revolution and blood, it said to the nineteenth, "All men shall share in 
political power. All men shall govern." Round this doctrine the nine- 
teenth century has shaped itself, with its abolition of human slavery, and 
its popular forms of government. The sovereignty of the people under God 
is the significance of our century. Before its resistless power, traditional 
and hereditary privileges of princes and nobility have steadily fallen away. 
And now, as its closing decade draws on, the nineteenth century sounds 
•out as a key-note to the twentieth: "Now that all men govern, all men 
must be laborers, too. If all are to govern, all must serve. Fitness for 
sovereignty is proved only by ability to serve all !" 

UNSELFISH SERVICE. 

This is the emphasized utterance of our time. Before it, the last 
stronghold of selfish privilege, the plea of wealth that it can exempt its 
owners from God's universal law of unselfish service, the demand of wealth 
to be allowed in peace to blind its eyes to its own responsibilities, is to 
disappear before the law that each man is bound usefully to serve all. 

It is a fine old legend, "Noblesse oblige ;" noble blood binds one to 
noble service. Just so the noblest men of wealth of our time are beginning 
— only beginning — to awaken to the power of the legend "Riehesse oblige." 
They are beginning to recognize the truth that wealth lays the heaviest 
possible obligation on its owner, to make his unselfish service of the 
highest welfare of his fellow-men reach out as widely as his wealth can 
extend that service. This means that men can no longer be left unques- 
tioned, to use their wealth, be it great or small, m 

MERELY FOR THEIR OWN SELFISH 

gratification. It means that the unvarying law of God which attaches an 
obligation to every opportunity, and places a duty over against every right, 
makes no exception of wealth, with its vast powers of service. " With new 
ability; new responsibility." Wealth is power; and for the unselfish use 
of all his powers, every man must give an account to the God who has 
taught us that "no man liveth to himself alone." 

"Money breeds!" "It's the first ten thousand that costs; get that, 
by foul means or fair, but get it, and then the thousands will roll up !" As 
this strong-sweeping current of gain gets hold of a man, there comes a 
rapidly accelerated motion that takes the breath away. There is an awful 



THE BUSINESS LIFE. 301 

peril in launching on this subtly sucking current of the determination to be 
quickly rich, and then to be just a little richer, and then to be among the 
richest ! What multitudes of fresh, manly young fellows, the high aspira- 
tions of home and college still radiant in their boyish faces, .we have seen 
each year sucked into the outer circles of the great whirlpools of spsculation 
in our cities! Here surge those deep waters spoken of by Paul to Timothy, 
where " they that will be rich fall into temptation and a snare and many 
hurtful and foolish lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition." 
As the whirlpool seethes on, we see the drowned men tossed out, ruined in 
-character', paralyzed, broken at forty! With half-palsied brain, and eye 
that has lost its compelling power, such a man can now read and under- 
stand the words, " He that maketh haste to be rich, shall not be unpunished." 

MISUSE OF WEALTH COMMON. 

The misuse of wealth, which is most common among professedly 
•Christian people, is, after all, the greatest peril that threatens our land. 
The crying sin of the respectable rich people of America is the ignoring of 
all true ends in the use of wealth — the effort to evade responsibility for 
any unselfish use of its great power for good. 

The rich man has no right to live lazily on his wealth, doing nothing 
for his fellow-men, while he is supported by the stored-up labor of his 
ancestors. If he has health, yet does no work with brain or hand for his 
fellows, he has no more right to exist among honest men than has the 
able-bodied tramp ! In the social organism, he is as truly a pauper as is 
the man who is fed and clothed from the poor-tax! 

WASTEFUL EXTRAVAGANCE. 

While there may be generous expenditure of wealth upon the 
comforts and the elegancies of refined homes, families who set examples of 
wasteful, luxuriant extravagance uniformly corrupt good manners and 
lower public morals. " Fashionable society in our great towns is babyish ; 
wealth is made a toy," says Emerson. For rich men generally refuse to 
recognize their responsibility to use wealth unselfishly for the welfare of 
all. Yet in such unselfish service we are called on to use all the powers 
and social forces at our command. Why should wealth be the sole 
exception to this law? God has so ordered the social life of our race, that 
no man can make the most of his own powers of mind and heart and will 
until he employs those powers in the ssrvice of his fellow-men. This is an 
accepted law in the realm of mind and spirit. It is no less binding upon 
the power which material wealth places at a man's disposal. No man has 
the slightest right to say of his wealth, "It is mine ; I may use it selfishly if 
I will." Wealth is power. 



302 THE BUSINESS LIFE. 

The truth is that wealth is a mighty power, but an exceedingly 
dangerous power for him who uses and holds it. The Christian who is to 
withstand its temptations and to use it aright must constantly ask guidance 
from God. It is the "deceit fulness of riches" which makes Christians 
imagine that they can lightly set aside or ignore the emphatic warnings of 
God's Word regarding riches. Only the power and love of God can enable 
Christians safely to handle wealth. 

AND WHEN ALL IS SAID, THE GIVING OF 

wealth for Christian work is not a mere business transaction. " They that 
trust in their wealth and boast themselves in the multitude of their riches, 
none of them can by any means redeem his brother, or give to God a 
ransom for him." Only the power of the Holy Spirit can transmute money 
gifts into Christian influences which shall win souls to Christ. 

"Defer not charities till death" says Bacon, "for certainly, if a man 
weigh it rightly, he that doth so is rather liberal of another man's than his 
own." Use your wealth for Christ while you can yourself direct its use, 
while you can yourself see and enjoy the mighty moral and spiritual values 
which are produced from the right use of wealth. — Merrill Gates. 



HOW TO BECOME A MILLIONAIRE. 

YOU must be a very able man. You must devote your life to the getting 
and keeping of other men's earnings. You must eat the bread of 
carefulness; and you must rise early, and lie down late. You must care 
little or nothing about other men's wants or sufferings or disappointments. 
You must not mind it that your great wealth involves other's poverty. 
You must not give away money unless for a material equivalent. You 
must not go meandering about Nature, nor spend your time enjoying earth, 
air, sky, and water; for there is no money in these. You must not allow 
the charms of art or literature to distract your thoughts from the great 
purpose of your life. You must not let philosophy or religion engross you 
during the secular days. You must not permit your wife and children 
to occupy much of your valuable thoughts or time. You must never get 
under the spell of friendship's fascination, and thereby be induced to make 
loans, however small. You must abandon all other ambitions and purposes; 
and, finally, you must be prepared to sacrifice ease, and all fanciful notions 
you may have about tastes and luxuries and enjoyments. If you think the 
game is worth the candle, you may die rich. 



THE BUSINESS LIFE. 303 



A 



THE IMMORTALITY OF INFLUENCE. 

N influence never dies. Once born it lives forever. In one of his lyrics, 
Longfellow beautifully illustrates this great truth : 

" I shot an arrow in the air, 
It fell to earth, I knew not where ; 
* * x 

I breathed a song into the air, 

It fell on earth, I knew not where ; 

Long, long afterwards, in an oak 
I found the arrow, still unbroke ; 
And the song, from beginning to end, 
I found again in the heart of a friend." 

No thought, no word, no act of man ever dies. They are as. immortal 
as his own soul. He will be sure to find them written somewhere. Some- 
where in this world he will meet their fruits in part; somewhere in the 
future life he will meet their gathered harvest. It may, and it may not, be 
a pleasant one to look upon. 

An influence not only lives for ever, but it keeps on growing as long 
as it lives. There never comes a time when it reaches its maturity and 
when its growth is arrested. The influence which you start into life to-day 
in the family, the neighborhood, or the social circle, is perhaps very small 
now, very little cared for now ; but it will roll forward through the ages, 
growing wider and deeper and stronger with every passing hour, and 
blighting or blessing as it rolls. — Christian Weekly. 



LOVE vs. GLORY. 

A LITTLE while ago I stood by the grave of the old Napoleon — a magni- 
ficent tomb of gilt and gold, fit almost for a dead deity — and gazed 
upon the sarcophagus of black Egyptian marble, where rest at last the 
ashes of the restless man. I leaned over the balustrade and thought about 
the career of the greatest soldier of the modern world. I saw him walking 
upon the banks of the Seine, contemplating suicide — I saw him at Toulon — 
I saw him putting down the mob in the streets of Paris — I saw him at the 
head of the army of Italy — I saw him crossing the bridge of Lodi with the 
tri-color in his hand — I saw him in Egypt in the shadows of the pyramids — 



30 4 ■ THE BUSINESS LIFE. 

I saw him conquer the' Alps and mingle the eagles of France with the 
eagles of the crags. I saw him at Marengo — at Ulm and Ansterlitz. I 
saw him in Russia, where the infantry of the snow and the cavalry of the 
wild blast scattered his legions like winter's withered leaves. I saw him 
at Leipsic in defeat and disaster — driven by a million bayonets back upon 
Paris — clutched like a wild beast — banished to Elba. I saw him escape and 
retake an empire by the force of his genius. I saw him upon the frightful 
field of Waterloo, where chance and fate combined to wreck the fortunes of 
their former king. And I saw him at St. Helena, with his hands crossed 
behind him, gazing out upon the sad and solemn sea. I thought of the 
orphans and widows he had made — of the tears that had been shed for his 
glory, and of the only woman who ever loved him, pushed from his heart 
by the cold hand of ambition. And I said I would rather have been a 
French peasant, and worn wooden shoes ; I would rather have lived in a 
hut with a vine growing over the door, and the grapes growing purple in 
the kisses of the autumn sun ; I would rather have been that poor peasant 
with my loving wife by my side, knitting as the day died out of the sky — 
with my children upon my knees and their arms about me ; I would rather 
have been that man and gone down to the tongueless silence of the 
dreamless dust, than to have been that imperial impersonation of force and 
murder known as Napoleon the Great. And so I would, ten thousand- 
thousand times. 



J*y>IS 



COUNTERFEIT SUCCESS. 

IS only noble to be 



— Tennyson. 

To win and to wear, 

To have and to hold, 
Is the burden of dream and of prayer, 
The hope of the young, 
And the hope of the old, 
The prize of the strong and the fair. 
All dream of some guerdon life's labor to bless, 
All winning that guerdon have named it — Success. 

But it is often a false name. The accomplishment of one's purpose 
is not necessarily success. It is sometimes the worst kind of failure, as in 
the case of Ahab, who obtained the real estate of Naboth, which he wished 
for, but at the cost of his honor. Many another has won a selfish gratifica- 
tion of appetite or covetousness by sacrificing his purity or generosity. 






THE BUSINESS LIFE. 305 

Achieving one's wish, with, more loss than profit, is surely not success. If 
wishes were horses, beggars would often ride to ruin. " Success to 
humbug," says a French proverb. But humbug is always failure. The 
moral loss exceeds the money gain, and "leaves one poor indeed." 

On the other hand, to fail of one's aim may be a prelude of true 
success, as when Peter Cooper lost ten dollars in gambling and was forever 
cured of it at the very beginning of his career, and as in the case of Judge 
Tourgde, the' author of " A Fool's Errand," whose failure as a legal 
reconstructionist led to his success as a reconstruction author. In a letter 
to me he attributes his success, " such as it is," chiefly to " an aptitude for 
folly." But it takes something more than folly to organize defeat into 
victory, to build success upon failure, as he has done. 

MEN WORSHIP SUCCESS. 

Men worship success, but oftener in false images of it than in the 
reality. True success has been as much misrepresented as the true God. 
The word success is as often misapplied as the word liberty. O, Success, 
how many crimes have been committed in thy name! A man obtains 
thousands or millions of dollars, by legal or illegal thieving, and society, 
instead of sending him to prison, receives him into its parlors. Men bow 
low when he passes, as in the fable the people bowed to the golden idols 
that were strapped on the back of a donkey, who was ass enough to swell 
with pride in the thought that all this reverence was for him. 

Mere wealth is no more success than fool's gold is real gold. 
Collaterals do not take the place of character. Many successful men, like 
Agassiz, " have no time to make money." " Wisdom is better than rubies." 
It is not success for a man to turn his heart into a money-vault by driving 
out all his nobler sentiments. It is not success to win wealth by such 
means that the winner is always fearing the pistol-shot of revenge. 

RICHES WITHOUT REFINEMENT. 

For one to. be the richest man in a state, but so bankrupt of, 
refinement that he finds his pleasures in beastly walking-matches and 
horse-races no more constitutes success than a jewel in a swine's snout. 
Indeed, if we believed in Darwinism, it would not be hard to trace the 
pedigree of those who keep for themselves millions more of money than 
they can use, even on the costliest food and clothes — millions more than 
they can safely or justly leave to their children, while thousands are 
suffering with hunger, and cold, and ignorance and sin all over the world 
for lack of that very money. 



3o6 THE BUSINESS LIFE. 



These richest men will not even cease to grasp for more. " The sea 
cries for water." Just here we see the failure of many rich men, who in 
seeking money as a good servant have really won a despotic taskmaster. 
Instead of having money, money has them. Wealth has proved to them a 
man-stealer. It has kidnapped their manhood. Slavery is not success. 
There is need of patience on the monuments that glorify Dives. There is 
no virtue in being a Lazarus. Poverty is not a passport to Heaven, nor 
wealth the key to hell. Christ's parable means that it is better to be one of 
God's rich poor than one of the devil's poor rich. But it is better still to be 
a good Dives, rich for both worlds, like Abraham and Job. But " riches 
without wisdom are food without salt!" The man who is so mismanaging 
his life that when he passes into the other world, where all, save " a 
handbreadth " of his existence, is to be spent, he will leave all he has and 
enter there a bankrupt, with no treasure laid up in Heaven, is not a success, 
even though he may be a millionaire. 

NO CRUSADE AGAINST WEALTH. . 

I make no crusade against wealth in itself. The lever that was to 
move the world we find to be a lever of gold, and the place which 
Archimedes could not find on which to place it is the Rock of Ages. We 
would not, then, condemn wealth, but convert it to the truth. We would 
not destroy it, but employ it for humanity. Christ did not condemn those 
who sold oxen and sheep and doves because they were merchants, but 
because they made his Father's house "a house of merchandise" and "a 
den of thieves." Consecrated talents of gold as well as of genius are 
blessed by the Saviour's words and win the applause of Heaven's " Well 
done." 

But the man who puts his trust in gold and deposits his heart in the 
bank, and thinks money means success, is like the starving traveller in the 
desert, who, seeing a bag in the distance, found in it, instead of food which 
he sought, nothing but gold, and flung it from him in disappointment, and 
died for want of something that could save his life. The soul will starve if 
gold alone administers to its needs. 

Better to be a man than merely a millionaire. Better to have a head 
and heart than merely house and lands. Success in the sense of satisfaction 
is not found even in the palaces of wealth, if Christ does not dwell with us 
there. 

Worldly men are only satisfied with a little more than they have. 
" He that loveth silver shall not be satisfied with silver." Columbus and 
his followers, when they had landed on this Continent, at once asked the 
Indians for the land of gold, of which they long had dreamed. They were 



THE BUSINESS LIFE. 307 



pointed over the mountains, and when they had crossed them they were 
pointed beyond yet other mountains, and so day after day they climbed the 
hills in vain. "So," says Irving, "the land of gold is ever beyond the 
mountains." 

As young men especially, we are apt to think that the catalogue of 
happiness and success is all written on the back of bank-bills, and some are 
willing to coin their hearts to increase their wealth. You look upon the 
rich man as the incarnation of satisfaction, the embodiment of success, but 
happiness is the gift of God and can not be purchased with money. The 
man who dies in the midst of bank-books, vmless his treasure and his heart 
are in Heaven, really dies poor, .for he goes to the other world bankrupt, 
taking nothing with him, not even a hope. Men whisper, " How much did he 
leave?" One answers, "A million." Another says, " He left two millions." 
But God and angels answer more truly, "He left all he had." 

CONSECRATED WEALTH. 

Wealth consecrated to the fatherhood of God and the brotherhood 
of man is twice blessed ; the poor rise up to call it blessed, and it has the 
blessing of the Lord, which maketh rich and addeth no sorrow with it; but 
gold without God, and bank-notes which have not beneath their rustle the 
throbbing of a Christian heart, are like millstones hanged about the soul 
to sink it in the depths of despair. 

That man who walks to his work in the morning with a merry song 
on his lips, and walks back at night when his work is done with happy 
heart and an approving conscience, has attained success more certainly 
than the man who rides in his carriage to his bank and comes back again 
with a discontented heart and a reproving conscience. He who loses his 
character in winning money has lost more than he has gained, and is there- 
lore not a success. 

Another man steals an office, or receives one that was stolen for him, 
trying to forget that the partaker is as bad as the thief. The robes of 
office cover his wrong, and people bow before his political power. They 
mistake Satanic smartness for success. Well said a prominent Englishman, 
who was travelling in our country, " That word ' smart ' will break 
America's back yet." It will, unless we break its back. The man who 
wins office by sacrificing honor is no more successful than Gehazi, who 
•won money by the loss of health and truth. 

" The rank is but the guinea stamp, 
The man's a man for a' that." 

That man is not a success who gives the gold for the stamp. 
19 



308 THE BUSINESS LIFE. 



Nor is the achievement of great reputation in the world of art and 
literature a proof of success. I am reminded of snake-worship when I read 
of the attentions paid to such crawling things as Walt Whitman and Oscar 
Wilde, who dip their pens in the sewers of vice and gild obscenity with 
rhythm. No degree of skill or fame can make such men a success. Their 
losses are more than their gains. 

FAME BOUGHT TOO DEAR. 

How often fame is bought too dear, as in the case of the warrior who 
fights not for native land but for personal glory, as described by Richelieu : 

" From rank showers of blood 
And the red light of blazing roofs 
You build the rainbow, Glory, 
And to shuddering conscience cry, 
Lo! the bridge to Heaven!" 

That reminds us of the other lines : 

" The drying of a single tear has more 
Of honest fame than shedding seas of gore." 

Parhassius, the painter, racking a slave to death in order that he may 
get a true model of death-agony for the picture which he expects will make 
him famous, is himself an abject slave to fame, as he cries : 

" I'd rack thee though I knew a thousand lives were perishing in thine ; 
What were ten thousand to a fame like mine ? " 

Such fame is not success, but only a leprous Naaman covered with 
the robes of distinction. No one is successful who wins fame by paying 
more than it is worth. Such an one is a loser, and therefore a failure. 
Those who are dazzled with the seeming success of godless men, who have 
wealth or office or literary eminence, would do well to listen to their wails 
over their bankruptcy of heart and soul, as found so abundantly in the 
pages of biography. 

David Hume, the infidel historian, in a work on " Human Nature," 
says : " I seem affrighted and confounded with the solitude in which I am 
placed by my philosophy. When I look abroad, on every side I see dispute, 
contradiction and detraction. When I turn my eye inward, I find nothing 
but doubt and ignorance. Where am I ? From what cause do I derive my 
existence? To what condition shall I return ? I am confounded with these 
questions. I begin to fancy myself in a most deplorable condition — 
environed with the deepest darkness on every side." 



THE BUSINESS LIFE. 309 



Voltaire, another infidel who drank deeply from the cup of literary 
fame, said : " The world abounds with wonders, and also with victims. In 
man there is more wretchedness than in all the animals put together. 
Man loves life, yet he knows he must die ; spends his existence in diffusing 
the miseries which he has suffered — cutting the throats of his fellow- 
creatures for pay, cheating and being cheated. The bulk of mankind are 
nothing more than a crowd of wretches, equally criminal, equally unfortunate. 
I wish I had never been born." 

Boswell gives us these dying messages of Dr. Johnson : " The 
approach of death is very dreadful. I am afraid to think of that which 
I know I can not avoid. It is vain to look round and round for that help 
which can not be had. Yet we hope and fancy that he who has lived to-day 
•nay live to-morrow." 

The infidel Buckingham, in a letter to Barrow from his death-bed, 
did not talk like a successful man, although he had wealth and rank and 
fame: "The world and I may shake hands, for I dare affirm that we are 
heartily weary of each other. What a prodigal I have been of the most 
valuable of all possessions— time ! I have squandered it away with a 
persuasion it was lasting, and now when a few days would be worth a 
hetacomb of worlds, I can not flatter myself with a prospect of a half-dozen 
hours." 

The accomplished Chesterfield, counting over his gains and losses in 
the darkness of approaching death, did not find himself successful. " I have 
been under the powers and influences of all the pleasures of this world, and 
consequently know their futility, and do not regret their loss. I appraise 
them at their real value, which, in truth, is very low. I look upon all that 
is past as one of those romantic dreams that opium commonly occasions, 
and I do by no means desire to repeat the nauseous dose for the sake of the 
fugitive dream." 

And who has not read the laments of the bankrupt heart of Byron 
who, despite his rank and wealth and fame, was a failure : 

" Nay, for myself, so dark my fate 

Through every turn of life hath been, 
Man and the world so much I hate, 
I care not when I quit the scene. 

" My days are in the yellow leaf, 

The flowers and fruit of love are gone — 
The worm, the canker, and the grief 
Are mine alone." 



3io THE BUSINESS LIFE. 



Theodore Hook made all nations laugh while he was living, and yet 
on a certain day, when in the midst of his revelry he caught a glimpse of 
his own face and his own apparel in the mirror, he said : " That is true. I 
look just as I am— lost, body, mind, soul, and estate — lost." And so it was 
with Shenstone. He sat down amid all the beauty of his garden and wrung 
his hands and said : " I have lost my way to happiness; I am frantic; I hate 
everything ; I hate myself as a madman ought to." 

Madame Maintenon, in a letter to a friend, writes as follows: "Why 
can not I give you my experience? Why can not I make you sensible of that 
uneasiness which preys upon the great, and the difficulty they labor under 
to employ their time ? Do you not see that I am dying with melancholy, in 
the height of fortune which once my imagination could scarce have 
conceived ? I have been young and beautiful, have had a high relish of 
pleasure, and have been the universal object of love. In a more advanced 
age I spent years in intellectual pleasures. I have at least risen to favor, 
but I protest that every one of these conditions leaves in the mind a dismal 
vacuity." 

And the famous Lacordaire, of Paris, said, at last: "I am feeble, 
discouraged — solitary in the midst of 800,000 men. I feel little attachment 
to existence; my imagination has taken the color out of it. I am satisfied 
of all, without having tasted anything. If you only knew how sad I am 
becoming! I love Sorrow, and live much with her. They speak to me* of 
literary fame and public employment. I have occasionally certain desires 
that way, but, frankly, I despise fame, and can scarcely conceive why people 
should take so much trouble to run after such a little fool. Where is the soul 
that shall understand mine ?" 

The trouble in all these sad cases was that mere wealth or office or 
fame were mistaken for success, and found at last to be counterfeits. 
Winning these at the cost of purity and faith, more was lost than gained. 
Real success was sacrificed to win its imitation. The dying moments of 
these famous people were thus filled with chagrin of having cheated 
themselves by their bad bargains, paying faith for fame, religion for riches, 
honor for office. All these things are desirable as element of power, but it 
is not success to buy them thus too dear. 

" The world has nothing left to give, 
It has no new, no pure delight; 
Oh, try the life which Christians live ; 

Thou wouldst be saved — why not to-night f" 

As men turn from idols to the living God, let us turn from these false 
images of success, to true ones. — Wilbur F. Crafts. 







ii 



f The G-lnrinns Fourth, " 






THE NATIONAL LIFE. 



-WHAT CONSTITUTES A STATE? 
A A J HAT constitutes a state? 

Not high-raised battlement or labored mound, 

Thick wall or moated gate ; 
Not cities proud with spires and turret-crowned ; 

Not bays and broad-armed ports, 
Where, laughing at the storm, rich navies ride ; 

Not starred and spangled courts, 
Where low-browed baseness wafts perfume to pride. 

No: — men, high-minded men, 
With powers as far above dull brutes endued 

In forest, brake, or den, 
As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude, 

-Men who their duties know, 
But know their rights, and, knowing, dare maintain, 

Prevent the long-aimed blow, 
And crush the tyrant while they rend the chain ; 

These constitute a state ; 
And sovereign law, that state's collected will 

O'er thrones and globes ela-te, 
Sits empress, crowning good, repressing ill, 

Smit by her sacred frown, 
The fiend, Dissension, like a vapor sinks ; 

And e'en the all-dazzling crown 
Hides his faint rays, and at her bidding shrinks. 

313 



314 THE NATIONAL LIFE. 



Such was this Heaven-loved isle, 
Than Lesbos fairer and the Cretan shore ! 

No more shall freedom smile? 
Shall Britons languish, and be men no more ? 

Since all must life resign, 
Those sweet rewards which decorate the brave 

'Tis folly to d'ecline, 
And steal inglorious to the silent grave. 

— Sir William Jones. 



THE DESTINY OF AMERICA. 

SEARCH creation round, where can you find a country that presents so 
sublime a view, so interesting an anticipation? Who shall say for 
what purpose mysterious Providence may not have designed her! Who 
shall say that when in its follies or its crimes the Old World may have 
buried all the pride of its power, and all the pomp of its civilization, human 
nature may not find its destined renovation in the new ! When its temples 
and its trophies shall have mouldered into dust, — when the glories of its 
name small be but the legend of tradition, and the light of its achievements 
live only in song, philosophy will revive again in the sky of her Franklin, 
and glory rekindle at the urn of her Washington. 

THE FATE OF EMPIRES. 

Is this the vision of romantic fancy? Is it even improbable? I 
appeal to history ! Tell me, thou reverent chronicler of the grave, can all 
the illusions of ambition realized, can all the wealth of a universal commerce, 
can all the achievements of successful heroism, or all the establishments of 
this world's wisdom, secure to empire the permanency of its possessions ? 
Alas, Troy thought so once; yet the land of Priam lives only in song! 
Thebes thought so once; yet her hundred gates have crumbled, and her 
very tombs are but as the dust they were vainly intended to commemorate ! 
so thought Palmyra — where is she ? So thought the countries of Demos- 
thenes and the Spartan; yet Leonidas is trampled by the timid slave, and 
Athens insulted by the servile, mindless, and enervate Ottoman! In his 
hurried march, Time has but looked at their imagined immortality, and all 
its vanities, from the palace to the tomb, have, with their ruins, erased the 
very impression of his footsteps ! The days of their glory are as if they had 
never been; and the island that was then a speck, rude and neglected, in 
the barren ocean, now rivals the ubiquity of their commerce, the glory of 
their arms, the fame of their philosophy, the eloquence of their senate, and 



THE NATIONAL LIFE. 315 



the inspiration of their bards! Who shall say, then, contemplating the 
past, that England, proud and potent as she appears, may not one day be 
what Athens is, and the young America yet soar to be what Athens was ! 
Who shall say, when the European column shall have mouldered, and the 
night of barbarism has obscured its very ruins, that that mighty continent may 
not emerge from the horizon, to rule, for its time, sovereign of the ascendant ! 
—Charles Phillips. 



AMERICA. 



LOOK now abroad, — another race has filled 
These populous borders, — wide the wood recedes, 
And towns shoot up, and fertile realms are tilled ; 
The land is full of harvests and green meads ; 
Streams numberless, that many a fountain feeds, 
Shine, disembowered, and give to sun and breeze 

Their virgin waters ; the full region leads 
New colonies forth, that toward the western seas 
Spread, like a rapid flame among the autumnal trees. 

Here the free spirit of mankind, at length, 

Throws its last fetters off; and who shall place 
A limit to the giant's unchained strength, 

Or curb his swiftness in the forward race ; 

Far, like the comet's way through infinite space, 
Stretches the long untravelled path of light 

Into the depths of ages : we may trace, 
Distant, the brightening glory of its flight, 
Till the receding rays are lost to human sight. 

Europe is given a prey to sterner fates, 

And writhes in shackles ; strong the arms that chain 
To earth her struggling multitude of states ; 

She, too, is strong and might not chafe in vain 

Against them, but shake off the vampire train 
That batten on her blood, and break their net. 

Yes, she shall look on brighter days, and gain 
The meed of worthier deeds ; the moment set 
To rescue and raise up, draws near — but is not yet. 



3i6 I HE NATIONAL LIFE. 



But thou, my country, thou shalt never fall, 

But with thy children — thy maternal care, 
Thy lavish love, thy blessings showered on all — 

These are thy fetters — seas and stormy air 

Are the wide barrier of thy borders, where, 
Among- thy gallant sons that guard thee well, 

Thou laugh'st at enemies : who shall then declare 
The date of thy deep-founded strength, or tell 
How happy, in thy lap, the sons of men shall dwell ? 

— IV. C. Bryant. 



THE SHIP OF STATE. 

THOU, too, sail on, O ship of State ! 
Sail on, O Union, strong and great ! 
Humanity with all its fears, 
With all the hopes of future years, 
Is hanging breathless on thy fate ! 
We know what master laid thy keel, 
What workmen wrought thy ribs of steel, 

Who made each mast, and sail, and rope, 
What anvils rang, what hammers beat, 
In what a forge and what a heat 

Were shaped the anchors of thy hope ! 
Fear not each sudden sound and shock— 
'Tis of the wave and not the rock; 
'Tis but the napping of the sail, 
And not a rent made by the gale ! 
In spite of rock and tempest roar, 
In spite of false lights on the shore, 
Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea ! 
Our hearts, our hopes are all with thee ! 
Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears, 
Our faith triumphant o'er our fears, 
Are all with thee — are all with thee ! 

— Longfellow. 



Graces cease to flow from Heaven into our souls if, by unfaithfulness, 
we cease to make them rise again to their source. 



THE NATIONAL LIFE. 317 



THE MEMORY OF WASHINGTON. 

TO US, citizens of America, it belongs above all others to show respect to 
the memory of Washington, by the practical deference which we pay 
to those sober maxims of public policy which he has left us, — a last 
testament of affection in his Farewell Address. Of all the exhortation 
which it contains, I scarce need say to you that none are so emphatically 
uttered, none so anxiously repeated, as those which enjoin the preservation 
of the Union of these States. 

THE FUTURE OF AMERICA. 

On this, under Providence, it depends in the judgment of Washington 
whether the people of America shall follow the Old World example, and be 
broken up into a group of independent military powers, wasted by eternal 
border wars, feeding the ambition of petty sovereigns on the life-blood 
of wasted principalities — a custom-house on the bank of every river, a 
fortress on every frontier hill, a pirate lurking in the recesses of every bay 
— or whether they shall continue to constitute a federal republic, the most 
extensive, the most powerful, the most prosperous in the long line of 
ages. 

No one can read the Farewell Address without feeling that this was 
the thought and this the care which lay nearest and heaviest upon that 
noble heart ; and if — which Heaven forbid — the day shall ever arrive when 
his parting counsels on that head shall be forgotten, on that day, come it 
soon or come it late, it may as mournfully as truly be said that Washington 
has lived in vain. Then the vessels, as they ascend and descend the 
Potomac, may toll their bells with new significance as they pass Mount 
Vernon ; they will strike the requiem of constitutional liberty for us — 

FOR ALL NATIONS. 

But it can not, shall not be ; this great woe to our beloved country, 
this catastrophe for the cause of national freedom, this grievous calamity 
for the whole civilized world, it can not, shall not be. No. by the glorious 
19th of April, 1775; no, by the precious blood of Bunker Hill, of Princeton, 
of Saratoga, of King's Mountain, of Yorktown ; no, by the undying spirit of 
'76; no, by the sacred dust enshrined at Mount Vernon; no, by the dear 
immortal memory of Washington,— that sorrow and shame shall never be! 

A great and venerated character like that of Washington, which 
commands the respect of an entire population, however divided on other 
questions, is not an isolated fact in history, to be regarded with barren 
admiration,— it is a dispensation of Providence for good. It was well said 
by Mr. Jefferson, in 1792, writing to Washington to dissuade him from 



318 THE NATIONAL LIFE. 



declining a renomination : " North and South will hang together while they 
have you to hang to." Washington in the flesh is taken from us ; we shall 
never behold him as our fathers did ; but his memory remains, and I say 
let us hang to his memory. Let us make a national festival and holiday of 
his birthday ; and ever as the 22d of February returns let us remember that, 
while with these solemn and joyous rites of observance we celebrate 
the great anniversary, our fellow-citizens on the Hudson, on the Potomac, 
from the Southern plains to the Western lakes, are engaged in 

THE SAME OFFICES OF GRATITUDE AND LOVE. 

Nor we, nor they alone ; — beyond the Ohio, beyond the Mississippi, 
along that stupendous trail of immigration from East to West, which, 
bursting into States as it moves westward, is already threading the Western 
prairies, swarming through the portals of the Rocky Mountains and winding 
down their slopes, the name and the memory of Washington on that gracious 
night will travel with the silver Queen of Heaven through sixty degrees of 
longitude, nor part company with her till she walks in her brightness 
through the Golden Gate of California, and passes serenely on to hold 
midnight court with her Australian stars. There, and there only, in bar- 
barous archipelagoes, as yet untrodden by civilized man, the name of 
Washington is unknown ; and there, too, when they swarm with enlightened 
millions, new honors shall be paid with ours to his memory. — E. Everett. 



UNION AND LIBERTY ! 

1 LAG of the heroes who left us their glory, 

Borne through their battle-fields' thunder and flame, 
Blazoned in song and illumined in story, 
Wave o'er us all who inherit their fame. 
Up with our banner bright, 
Sprinkled with starry light, 
Spread its fair emblems from mountain to shore, 
While through the sounding sky 
Loud rings the Nation's cry — 
Union and Liberty ! One Evermore! 

Light of. our firmament, guide of our Nation, 
Pride of her children, and honored afar, 

Let the wide beams of thy full constellation 
Scatter each cloud that would darken a star! 



THE NATIONAL LIFE. 



319 



Empire unsceptred ! what foe shall assail thee 

Bearing the standard of Liberty's van ? 
Think not the God of thy fathers shall fail thee, 

Striving with men fof the birthright of man ! 

Yet if, by madness and treachery blighted, 

Dawns the dark hour when the sword thou must draw, 

Then with the arms to thy millions united, 
Smite the bold traitors to Freedom and Law ! 

Lord of the Universe, shield us and guide us, 

Trusting Thee always, through shadow and sun ! 
Thou hast united us, who shall divide us ? 
Keep us, O keep us the Many in One ! 
Up with our banner bright, 
Sprinkled with starry light, 
Spread its fair emblems from mountain to shore, 
While through the sounding sky 
Loud rings the Nation's cry — 
Union and Liberty! One Evermore ! 

— Oliver Wendell Holmes. 



THE DEMAGOGUE. 

THE lowest of politicians is that man who seeks to gratify an invariable 
selfishness by pretending to seek the public good. For a profitable 
popularity he accommodates himself to all opinions, to all dispositions, to 
every side, and to every prejudice. He is a mirror, with no face of its own, 
but a smooth surface from which each man of ten thousand may see himself 
reflected. 

He glides from man to man, coinciding with their views, simulating 
their tastes, and pretending their feelings ; with this one he loves a man ; 
with that one he hates the same man ; he favors a law, and he dislikes it ; 
he approves and opposes ; he is on both sides at once, and seemingly wishes 
that he could be on one side more. He attends meetings to suppress intem- 
perance — but at elections makes every grog-shop free to all drinkers. He 
can with equal relish plead most eloquently for temperance, or toss off a 
dozen glasses of whiskey in a dirty groggery. 

He thinks that there is a time for everything, and therefore at one 
time he jeers and leers, and swears with a carousing blackguard crew ; and 



3 2o THE NATIONAL LIFE. 

at another time, professing to have been happily converted, he displays all 
the various features of devotion. Indeed, he is a capacious Christian — an 
epitome of faith. 

He piously asks the class-leader of the welfare of his charge', for he 
was always a Methodist, and always will be — until he meets a Presbyterian ; 
then he is a Presbyterian, Old School or New, as the case requires; 
however, as he is not a bigot, he can afford to be a Baptist in a good Baptist 
neighborhood, and with a wink he tells the pious elder that he never had one 
of his children baptized, not he ! He whispers to the Reformer that he 
abhors all creeds but Baptism and the Bible. After this, room will be found 
in his heart for the fugitive sects also, which come and go like clouds in a 
summer-sky. 

HIS RARE TACT. 

Upon the stump his tact is no less rare. He roars and bawls with 
courageous plainness, on points about which all agree; but on subjects 
where men differ, his meaning is nicely balanced on a pivot that it may dip 
either way. He depends for success chiefly upon humorous stories. A 
glowing patriot telling stories is a dangerous antagonist ; for it is hard to 
expose the fallacy of a hearty laugh, and men convulsed with merriment are 
slow to perceive in what way an argument is a reply to a story : men who 
will admit that he has not a solitary moral virtue, will vote for him, and 
assist him in obtaining the office to which he aspires. 



THE PARTY MAN. 

A MORE respectable and more dangerous politician is the party man. 
He has associated his ambition, his interests, and his affections with a 
party. He prefers, doubtless, that his side should be victorious by the best 
means, and under the championship of good men ; but rather than lose the 
victory, he will consent to any means, and follow any man. Thus, with a 
general desire to be upright, the exigency of his party constantly pushes 
him to dishonorable deeds. He opposes fraud by craft ; lie by lie ; slander' 
by counter-aspersion. He gradually adopts two characters, a personal 
and a political character. All the requisitions of his conscience he obeys 
in his private character, all the requisitions of his party he obeys in his 
political conduct. In one character he is a man of principle ; in the other, 
a .man of mere expedients. As a man he means to be veracious, honest, 
moral ; as a politician, he is deceitful, cunning, unscrupulous — anything for 
party. 



THE NATIONAL LIFE. 321 



I am puzzled to know what will happen at death to this politic 
Christian, but most unchristian politician. Will both of his characters go 
Heavenward together ? If the strongest prevails he will certainly go to hell. 
If his weakest (which is his Christian character) is saved, what will become 
of his political character ? Shall he be sundered in two as Solomon proposed 
to divide the contested infant ? — Beecher. 



PATRIOTISM. 

BREATHES there a man with soul so dead 
Who never to himself hath said, 
This is my own, my native land ! 
Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, 
As home his footsteps he hath turned 
From wandering on a foreign strand ! 
If such there breathe, go, mark him well ; 
For him no minstrel raptures swell ; 
High though his titles, proud his name, 
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim, 
Despite those titles, power, and pelf, 
The wretch, concentred all in self, 
Living shall forfeit fair renown, 
And, doubly dying, shall go down 
To the vile dust from whence he sprung, 
Unwept, unhonored, and unsung. 

— Sir Walter Scott. 



w 



THE AMERICAN FLAG. 

HEN Freedom, from her mountain height, 
Unfurled her standard to the air, 

She tore the azure robe of night, 
And set the stars of glory there ! 

She mingled with its gorgeous dyes 

The milky baldric of the skies, 

And striped its pure, celestial white 

With streakings of the morning light ; 

Then, from his mansion in the sun, 

She called her eagle-bearer down, 

And gave into his mighty hand 

The symbol of her chosen land ! 



322 THE NATIONAL LIFE. 

Majestic monarch of the cloud! 

Who rear'st aloft thy regal form, 
To hear the tempest trumping loud, 
And see the lightning lances driven, 

When strive the warriors of the storm, 
And rolls the thunder-drum of Heaven — 
Child of the Sun ! to thee 'tis given 

To guard the banner of the free, 
To hover in the sulphur smoke, 
To ward away the battle-stroke, 
And bid its blendings shine afar, 
Like rainbows on the cloud of war, 

The harbingers of victory ! 

Flag of the brave ! thy folds shall fly, 
The sign of hope and triumph high ! 
When speaks the signal-trumpet tone, 
And the long line comes gleaming on, 
Ere yet the life-blood, warm and wet, 
Has dimmed the glistening bayonet, 
Each soldier's eye shall brightly turn 
To where thy sky-born glories burn, 
And, as his springing steps advance, 
Catch war and vengeance from the glance. 



And when the cannon-mouthings loud 
Heave in wild wreaths the battle shroud, 
And gory sabres rise and fall 
Like shoots of flame on midnight's pall, 
Then shall thy meteor glances glow, 

And cowering foes shall shrink beneath 
Each gallant arm that strikes below 

That lovely messenger of death. 



Flag of the seas ! on ocean wave 
Thy stars shall glitter o'er the brave 
When Death, careering on the gale, 
Sweeps darkly round the bellied sail, 
And frighted waves rush wildly back 



THE NATIONAL LIFE. 323 

Before the broadside's reeling rack, 
Each, dying wanderer of the sea 
Shall look at once to Heaven and thee, 
And smile to see thy splendors fly 
In triumph o'er his closing eye. 

Flag of the free heart's hope and home, 

By angel hands to valor given ! 
Thy stars have lit the welkin dome, 

And all thy hues were born in Heaven. 
Forever float that standard sheet ! 

Where breathes the foe but falls before us ! 
With Freedom's soil beneath our feet, 

And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us ! 

— Joseph Rodman Drake. 

THE MEN TO MAKE A STATE. 

THE men to make a state must be intelligent men. I do not mean that 
they must know that two and two make four ; or that six per cent, a 
year is half per cent, a month. I take a wider and a higher range. I limit 
myself to no mere utilitarian intelligence. This has its place. And this 
will come almost unsought. The contact of the rough and rugged world 
will force men to it in self-defence. The lust of worldly gain will drag men 
to it for self-aggrandizement. But men so made will never make a state. 
The intelligence which that demands, will take a higher and a wider range. 
Its study will be man. It will make history its chief experience. It will 
read hearts. It will know men. It will know itself first. What else can 
govern men ? Who else can know the men to govern men ? The right of 
suffrage is a fearful thing. It calls for wisdom, and discretion, and 
intelligence, of no ordinary standard. It takes in, at every exercise, the 
interests of the Nation. Its results reach forward through time into 
eternity. Its discharge must be accounted for among the dread responsi- 
bilities of the great day of judgment. Who will go to it blindly? Who 
will go to it passionately? Who will go to it, as a sycophant, a tool, a 
slave ? How many do ! These are not the men to make a state. 

THEY MUST BE BRAVE MEN. 

The men to make a state must be honest men. I do not mean men 
that would never steal. I do not mean men that would scorn to cheat in 
making change. I mean men with a single face. I mean men with a single 



324 THE NATIONAL LIFE. 



eye. I mean men with a single tongue. I mean men that consider what 
is right, and do it at whatever cost. I mean men who can dine, like Andrew 
Marvel, on a neck of mutton ; and whom, therefore, no king on earth can 
buy. Men that are in the market for the highest bidder; men that make 
politics their trade, and look to office for a living; men that will crawl 
where they cannot climb — these are not the men to make a state. 

THEY MUST BE RELIGIOUS MEN. 

The men to make a state must be brave men. I do not mean the 
men that pick a quarrel. I do not mean the men that carry dirks. I do 
not mean the men that call themselves hard names — as bouncers, killers, 
and the like. I mean the men that walk with open face and unprotected 
breast. 

I mean men that do, but do not talk. I mean the men that dare to 
stand alone. I mean the men that are to-day where they were yesterday, 
and will be there to-morrow. I mean the men that can stand still and take 
the storm. I mean the men that are afraid to kill, but not afraid to die. 
The man that calls hard names and uses threats ; the man that stabs in 
secret with his tongue or with his pen ; the man that moves a mob to deeds 
of violence and self-destruction ; the man that freely offers his last drop of 
blood, but never sheds the first — these are not the men to make a state. 

STATES ARE ACCOUNTABLE TO GOD. 

The men to make a state must be religious men. States are from 
God. States are dependent upon God. States are accountable to God. To 
leave God out of states, is to be atheists. I do not mean that men must 
cant. I do not mean that men must wear long faces. I do not mean that 
men must talk of conscience, while they take your spoons. One has shrewdly 
called hypocrisy the tribute which vice pays to virtue. These masks and 
visors, in like manner, are the forced concession which a moral nature makes 
to him whom, at the same time, it dishonors. I speak of men who feel and 
own a God. I speak of men who feel and own their sins. I speak of men 
who think the cross no shame. I speak of men who have it in their hearts 
as well as on their brows. The men that own no future, the men that 
trample on the Bible, the men that never pray, are not the- men to make a 
state. 

The men to make a state are made by faith. A man that has no faith 
is so much flesh. His heart, a muscle; nothing more. He has no past, for 
reverence ; no future, for reliance. He lives, so does a clam. Both die. 
Such men can never make a state. There must be faith, which furnishes 
the fulcrum Archimedes could not find, for the long lever that should move 



THE NATIONAL LIFE. 325 

the world. There must be faith to look through clouds and storms up to 
the sun that shines as cheerily on high as on creation's morn. There must 
"be faith that can lay hold on Heaven, and let the earth swing from beneath 
it, if God will. There must be faith that can afford to sink the present in 
the future, and let time go, in its strong grasp upon eternity. This is the 
way that men are made, to make a state. 

The men to make a state are made by self-denial. The willow dallies 
with the water, and is fanned forever by its coolest breeze, and draws its 
waves up in continual pulses of refreshment and delight ; and is a willow, 
after all. An acorn has been loosened, some autumnal morning, by a 
squirrel's foot. It finds a nest in some rude cleft of an old granite rock, 
where there is scarcely earth to cover it. It knows no shelter, and it feels 
no shade. It squares itself against the storms. It shoulders through the 
blast. It asks no favor, and gives none. It grapples with the rock. It 
crowds up toward the sun. It is an oak. It has been seventy years an oak. 
It will be an oak for seven times seventy years, unless you need a man-of-war 
to thunder at the foe that shows a flag upon the shore where freemen dwell ; 
and then you take no willow in its daintiness and gracefulness, but that old, 
hardy, storm-stayed and storm-strengthened oak. So are the men made 
that will make a state. 

The men to make a state are themselves made by obedience. Obedi- 
ence is the health of human hearts ; obedience to God ; obedience to father 
and to mother, who are, to children, in the place of God ; obedience to teachers 
and to masters, who are in the place of father and of mother ; obedience to 
spiritual pastors, who are God's ministers ; and to the powers that be, which 
are ordained of God. Obedience is but self-government in action, and he 
can never govern men who does not govern first himself. Only suck men 
can make a state. — George W. Doane. 



The life of Christ concerns Him, who being the holiest among the 
mighty, and the mightiest among the holy, lifted, with His pierced hand, 
empires off their hinges, and turned the stream of centuries out of its 
channel, and still governs the ages. 

Close the ear to slander and evil speaking; the memory to thoughts 
that soil the life ; the heart to influences that impair the sympathies ; the 
mind to reasonings that degrade its judgment; the eye to sights that distort 
the landscape of life and impair its beauty, and the soul to impressions that 
may destroy its happiness for eternity. 



326 ^ THE NATIONAL LIFE. 

FRIDAY IS NOT UNLUCKY. 

FRIDAY, February 22, 1732, George Washington was born. 
Friday, March 18, 1776, the Stamp Act was repealed in England. 

Friday, June 13, 1492, Columbus discovered the continent of America. 

Friday, December 22, 1620, the Pilgrims made the final landing at 
Plymouth Rock. 

Friday, September 22, 1780, Arnold's treason was laid bare, which 
saved the United States. 

Friday, October 19, 1781, the surrender of Yorktown, the crowning 
glory of the American Army, occurred. 

Friday, September 7, 1465, Melendez founded St. Augustine, the 
oldest town in the United States by more than forty years. 

Friday, October 7, 1777, the surrender of Saratoga was made, which 
had such power and influence in inducing France to declare for our cause. 

Friday, March 5, 1496, Henry VIII., of England, gave to John Cabot 
his commission which led to the discovery of North America. This is the 
first American state paper in England. 

Friday, November 10, 1620, the Mayflower, with the Pilgrims, made 
the harbor of Provincetown, and on the same day they signed that august 
compact, the forerunner of our present Constitution. 

Friday, July 7, 1776, the motion was made in Congress by John 
Adams, and seconded by Richard Henry Lee, that the United States Colonies 
were, and of right ought to be, free and independent. 

Friday, July 1, 1825, General Lafayette was welcomed to Boston and 
feasted by the Freemasons and citizens, and attended at the laying of the 
corner-stone of Bunker Hill Monument, erected to perpetuate the 
remembrance of the defenders of the rights and liberties of America. 



WASHINGTON'S ADDRESS TO HIS TROOPS BEFORE THE 
BATTLE OF LONG ISLAND, 1776. 

THE time is now near at hand, which must probably determine whether 
Americans are to be freemen or slaves ; whether they are to have any 
property they can call their own ; whether their houses and farms are to be 
pillaged and destroyed, and themselves consigned to a state of wretchedness, 
from which no human efforts will deliver them. The fate of unborn 
millions will now depend, under God, on the courage and conduct of this 
army. Our cruel and unrelenting enemy leaves us only the choice of a 
brave resistance, or the most abject submission. We have, therefore, to 
resolve to conquer or to die. 



THE NATIONAL LIFE. 327 



Our own, our country's honor, calls upon us for a vigorous and manly 
exertion; and if we now shamefully fail, we shall become infamous to the 
whole world , Let us, then, rely on the goodness of our cause, and the aid 
of the Supreme Being, in whose hands victory is, to animate and encourage 
us to great and noble actions. The eyes of all our countrymen are now 
upon us, and we shall have their blessings and praises, if happily we are the 
instruments of saving them from the tyranny meditated against them. Let 
us therefore animate and encourage each other, and show the whole world, 
that a freeman contending for liberty on his own ground, is superior to any 
slavish mercenary on earth. 

Liberty, property, life, and honor are all at stake ; upon your courage 
and conduct rest the hopes of our bleeding and insulted country; our wives, 
children, and parents expect safety from us only; and they have every reason 
to believe that Heaven will crown with success so just a cause. 

The enemy will endeavor to intimidate by show and appearance ; but 
remember they have been repulsed on various occasions by a few brave 
Americans. Their cause is bad — their men are conscious of it ; and, if 
opposed with firmness and coolness on their first onset, with our advantage 
of works and knowledge of the ground, the victory is most assuredly ours. 
Every good soldier will be silent and attentive — wait for orders — and reserve 
his fire until he is sure of doinsf execution. 



LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. 

'HE breaking waves dashed high 
On a stern and rock-bound coast, 

And the woods against a stormy sky 
Their giant branches tossed ; 

And the heavy night hung dark 

The hills and waters o'er, 
When a band of exiles moored their bark 
On the wild New England shore 

Not as the conqueror comes, 

They, the true-hearted, came ; 
Not with the roll of the stirring drums, 
And the trumpet that sings of fame ; 

Not as the flying come, 

In silence and in fear ; — 
They shook the depths of the desert gloom 

With their hymns of lofty cheer. 



328 THE NATIONAL LIFE. 

Amidst the storm they sang, 

And the stars heard, and the sea ; 
And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang 

To the anthem of the free. 

The ocean eagle soared 

From the nest by the white wave's foam, 
And the rocking pines of the forest roared, — 
• This was their welcome home. 

There were men with hoary hair 

Amidst that pilgrim band : 
Why had they come to wither there, 

Away from their childhood's land? 

There was a woman's fearless eye, 

Lit by her deep love's truth ; 
There was manhood's brow serenely high, 

And the fiery heart of youth. 

What sought they thus afar ? 

Bright jewels of the mine? 
The wealth of seas, the spoils of war ? — 

They sought a faith's pure shrine ! 

Ay, call it holy ground, 

The soil where first they trod ; 
They have left unstained what there they found, — 

Freedom to worship God. 

— Felicia Hemans. 



THE AMERICAN EAGLE. 

HAVE you ever seen an eagle fettered to the earth day after day and 
week after week? How his plumage droops, and his proud bearing 
sinks away into an expression of fear and humility? His eye, that was 
wont to outgaze the sun, is lustreless and dead, and but low sounds of 
irritation escape him. But just let the free cry of a free eagle, seated on 
some far mountain crag, meet his ear, and how his roughened plumage 
smoothes itself into beauty, his drooping neck becomes erect, and his eye 
gleams as of old. Pour that wild scream again on his ear, and those broad 



THE NATIONAL LIFE. 329 

■wings unfold themselves in their native strength, and with a cry as shrill 
and piercing as that of his fellow, he strains on his fetter, and perchance 
bursts away, soaring gloriously toward Heaven. Who then shall stay his 
flight, or fill his heart with fear? So had man been chained down age after 
age, till his spirit was broken, his dignity and glory gone, and his soul 
marred and stained. Our " Declaration of Rights " was the cry of that free 
eagle on his mountain crag, and the fettered soul heard and answered it the 
world over, with a shout that rocked the thrones of Europe to their bases, 
and made the chain that bound it smoke and quiver beneath its angry 
blows. — /. T. Headly. 



MORTALITY AMONG NATIONS. 

THERE is great mortality among monarchies and republics. They are 
like individuals in the fact that they are born, they have a middle 
life, they have a decease, they have a cradle, and a grave. Some of them 
are assassinated, some destroyed by their own hand. Let me call the roll of 
some of the dead civilizations and some of the dead cities, and let some 
one answer for them. 

Egyptian civilization, stand up. " Dead !" answer the ruins of Karnak 
and Luxor, and from seventy pyramids on the east side of the Nile there 
comes up a great chorus, crying, " Dead, dead !" Assyrian Empire, stand up 
and answer. " Dead !" cry the charred ruins of Nineveh. After six hundred 
years of magnificent opportunity, dead. Israelitish Kingdom, stand up. 
After two hundred and fifty years of Divine interposition and of miraculous 
vicissitude and of heroic behavior and of appalling depravity, dead. 
Phoenicia, stand up and answer. After inventing the alphabet and giving it 
to the world, and sending out her merchant caravans in one direction to 
Central Asia, and sending out her navigators to the Atlantic Ocean in 
another direction, dead. Pillars of Hercules and rocks on which the Tyrian 
fishermen dried their nets, all answer, "Dead Phoenicia." Athens, after 
Phidias, after Demosthenes, after Miltiades, dead. Sparta, after Leonidas, 
after Eurybiades, after Salamis, after Thermopylae, dead. 

ROMAN EMPIRE, 

stand up and answer. Empire once bounded by the British Channel on the 
north, by the Euphrates on the east, by the great Sahara Desert in Africa 
on the south, by the Atlantic Ocean on the west. Home of three great 
civilizations, owning all the then-discovered world that was worth owning. 
Roman Empire, answer. Gibbon, in his " Rise and Fall of the Roman 
Empire," says " Dead !" and the forsaken seats of the ruined Coliseum, and 



33Q THE NATIONAL LIFE. 

the skeleton of the aqueducts, and the miasma of the Campagna, and the 
fragments of the marble baths, and the useless piers of the Bridge 
Triumphalis, and the Mamartine Prison, holding no more apostolic 
prisoners, and the silent Forum, and Basilica of Constantine, and the arch 
of Titus, and the Pantheon, come in with great chorus, crying : " Dead, 
dead !" After Horace, after Virgil, after Tacitus, after Cicero, dead. After 
Horatius on the bridge, and Cincinnatus, the farmer oligarch, after Pompey, 
after Scipio, after Cassius, after Constantine, after Caesar, dead. The 
war eagle of Rome dew so high it was blinded by the sun and came 
whirling down through the heavens, and the owl of desolation and darkness 
built its nest in the forsaken eyry. Mexican Empire, dead. French Empire, 
dead. 

You see, my friends, it is no unusual thing for a government to 
perish, and in the same necrology of dead nations, and in the same grave- 
yard of expired governments will go the United States of America, unless 
there be some potent voice to call a halt, and unless God in His mercy 
interfere, and through a purified ballot-box and a widespread public 
Christian sentiment the catastrophe be averted. — Talmage. 



A PURE BALLOT. 

THE ballot should represent the unobstructed voice of the people. What 
intelligent man thinks that this is generally or often the case ? Our 
system of universal suffrage, while it has its advantages, has also its evils. 
The demagogue and the dishonest politician have equal opportunities with 
the citizen of ' intelligence and honesty. Indeed, the man of probity and 
culture, whose patriotism is based upon intelligent recognition of the needs 
of the country, and who is moved by a spirit of self-sacrifice, is at a distinct 
disadvantage when he meets the ingenious and unprincipled " boss " and 
the manager of "relentless machines." "The daily press is a mirror of 
daily wrongs, unscrupulous political seeking, incompetence in legislation, 
corruption in office, defeat of the public will, extravagance in public 
expenditures, maladministration of law, and finally the domination of the 
worst elements in the nation." Thus speaks a competent authority. This 
condition is possible only because a corrupt and dishonest ballot is possible. 
The upright citizen goes to the caucus to find that it is a "packed caucus," 
to the convention to find it a " cut-and-dried convention." The convention 
called with Pharisaic cant as a "citizens' meeting," with no reference to 
parties, not unfrequently reveals in its manipulation the hand of the 
shrewdest and the worst political sinner of them all. As the result of these 



THE NATIONAL LIFE. 331 

schemes the intelligent and conscientious voter finds that he must vote 
against his judgment or throw his vote away. And when the election is 
over the "friend of the people" becomes the venal legislator, and the 
"protector of honest government" an official defaulter. Not only are 
these indirect means used to circumvent the honest expression of the 
people's will at the polls, but direct means, such as the buying of votes and 
"stuffing of the ballot-box," are resorted to by demagogues and irresponsible 
politicians to carry their nefarious objects. Says a politician of extensive 
experience in public life : "There is a better evidence than the mere tongue 
of rumor that the use of considerable sums of money in Congressional and 
Presidential elections is the rule in every part of the country. Our chief 
peril is not in the fact, reprehensible though it be, that per cent, assessments 
have been levied upon clerks and subordinates in the public service, but 
that vast sums are contributed, not upon party grounds nor for patriotic 
reasons, and expended in ways that shun the light." It is known there is 
a close and exciting election impending in a certain state. There is a call 
for funds to save the state to the party. Money must go to Ohio, to 
Pennsylvania, to Indiana. Money must be "judiciously" expended in New 
York. What does it mean? Legitimate expenditures? The grave 
suspicion exists that sometimes at least corruption is meant. The "barrel'' 
and "putting money where it will do the most good" have become figures 
of speech. Some day a complete statement will be given of the use made 
of all moneys in elections. We have no means of knowing how many 
dishonest votes are cast on election days. 

EACH PARTY MAKES ACCUSATIONS 

against his opponent. Although it is not always a just remark that 
" where there is so much smoke there is always some fire," I think it is 
entirely so when used in relation to fraudulent voting. A knowledge of the 
facts in relation to voting in any large city completely destroys one's faith in 
a perfectly honest ballot. A vote which is not free because of race 
prejudice, intimidation, undue influence of powerful classes or corporations, 
or the tampering with the actual vote cast should be looked upon as the 
most heinous of crimes. The time will come when a dishonest or corrupt 
vote will be looked upon as attempted assassination of the government and 
the buyer of votes as a fit subject for the utter abhorrence of his fellow- 
citizens. The Church calls upon men to carry their honor to the caucus and 
keep it unsullied, to protect as the apple of their eye an honest vote, to be 
pure ourself and see to it that others are so. To cast and guard the ballot 
as the prerogative of a manhood that recognizes its supreme obligation to 
God and humanity. — C. H. Eaton. 



332 THE NATIONAL LIFE. 



w 



THE BETTER WAY. 

HO serves his country best? 

Not he who for a brief and stormy space 

Leads forth her armies to the fierce affray. 
Short is the time of turmoil and unrest; 
Long years of peace succeed it, and replace. 
There is a better way. 

Who serves his country best? 
Not he who guides her senates in debate 

And makes the laws which are her prop and stay; 
Not he who wears the poet's purple vest, 

And sings her songs of love and grief and fate. 
There is a better way. 

He serves his country best 

Who joins the tide that lifts her nobly on; 

For speech has myriad tongues for every day, 
And songs but one ; and laws within the breast 
Is stronger than the graven law on stone. 
There is a better way. 

He serves his country best 

Who lives pure life and doeth righteous deeds, 

And walks straight paths however others stray, 
And leaves his sons as uttermost bequest 
A stainless record which all men may read. 
This is the better way. 

No drop but serves the slowly-lifting tide, 
No dew but has an errand to some flower, 

No smallest star but sheds some hopeful ray, 
And man by man, each giving to the rest, 

Makes the firm bulwark of the country's power. 
There is no better way. 

— Susan Coolidge. 



One boasting to Aristotle of the greatness of his country, " That/' 
saith Aristotle, " is not to be considered, but whether you deserve to be of 
that great country." 



THE NATIONAL LIFE. 333: 

AN IDEAL AMERICAN. 

IF there is any person in the world to be envied, it is the one who is born 
to an ancient estate, with a long line of family traditions; and the 
means in his hands of shaping his mansion and his domain to his own 
taste, without losing sight of all the characteristic features which surrounded, 
his earliest years. The American is, for the most part, a nomad, who pulls 
down his house as the Tartar pulls up his tent-poles. If I had an ideal life 
to plan for him, it would be something like this : 

His grandfather should be a wise, scholarly, large-brained, large- 
hearted country minister, from whom he should inherit the temperament 
that predisposes to cheerfulness and enjoyment, with the finer instincts 
which direct life to noble aims, and make it rich with the gratification of 
pure and elevated tastes, and the carrying out of plans for the good of his. 
neighbors and his fellow-creatures. 

HE SHOULD, IF POSSIBLE, HAVE BEEN BORN 

— at any rate, have passed some of his early years, or a large part of them 
— under the roof of the good old minister. His father should be, we will 
say, a business man in one of our great cities — a generous manipulator of 
millions, some of which have adhered to his private fortunes, in spite of his 
liberal use of his means. His heir, our ideally placed American, shall take 
possession of the old house — the home of his earliest memories — and 
preserve it sacredly ; not exactly like the Santa Casa, but, as nearly as may 
be, just as he remembers it. He can add as many acres as he will to the 
narrow house-lot. He can build a grand mansion for himself, if he chooses, 
in the not-distant neighborhood. But the old house, and all immediately 
round it, shall be as he recollects it when he had to stretch his little arm up 
to reach the door-handles. 

THEN, HAVING WELL PROVIDED FOR HIS OWN HOUSEHOLD, 

himself included, let him become the providence of the village or the 
town where he finds himself during at least a portion of every year. Its. 
schools, its libraries, its poor — and, perhaps, the new clergyman who has 
succeeded his grandfather's successor may be one of them — all its interests 
he shall make his own. And from this centre his beneficence shall radiate 
so far, that all who hear of his wealth shall also hear of him as a friend to 
his race. 

Is not this a pleasing programme ? Wealth is a steep hill, which the 
father climbs slowly, and the son often tumbles down precipitately ; but 
there is a table-land contiguous with it, which may be found by those who- 



334 THE NATIONAL LIFE. 

do not lose their head in looking down from its sharply cloven summit. 
Our dangerously rich men can make themselves hated, held as enemies of 
the race, or beloved and recognized as its benefactors. The clouds of 
discontent are threatening, but if the gold-pointed lightning-rods are rightly 
distributed, the destructive element may be drawn off silently and 
harmlessly. For it can not be repeated too often that the safety of great 
wealth with us lies in obedience to the new version of the old world axiom, 
RlCHESSE oblige. — Oliver Wendell Holmes. 



SAFEGUARDS OF NATIONS. 

FRANCE tried to get on without a God in the time of her first 
Revolution; but Napoleon, for state reasons, restored the Catholic 
religion. M. Thiers gives this singular passage in his history: "Napoleon 
said, 'For my part I never hear the sound of the church bell in the 
neighboring village without emotion.' " He knew that the hearts of the 
people were stirred by the same deep yearnings after God which filled his 
own ; and so he purposed to restore the worship of God to infidel France. 
The savants of Paris ridiculed the proposal, laughed it to scorn, declared 
that it was weakness in him to yield to a superstition that had forever 
passed away ; that he needed no such aid to government, and that he could 
do what he pleased. "Yes," said he; "but I act only with regard to the 
real and sensibly-felt wants of France." Negotiations were opened with 
the Pope, and the Romish worship was set up, amid the enthusiasm of the 
nation. The historian utters this sublime reflection: "Whether true or 
false, sublime or ridiculous, men must have a religion." Later, and with 
deeper meaning, Perrier, successor to Lafayette as Prime-minister to Louis 
Philippe, said on his death-bed : " France must have religion." And so I 
say to-day — America must have religion. — C. D. Foss. 



THE CRUSADE. 

AT the preaching of Peter the Hermit, Christendom was moved as it 
never before had been. A crusade was set on foot to redeem 
that sepulchre, and in a year six millions of souls had volunteered for the 
Holy War. Old men, women, and children, the rich and poor, were seen 
streaming by tens of thousands towards the sacred spot. Kings and 
princes, and warriors of renown, buried their feuds, forgot their career of 
worldly glory, and, striking hands together, swore' that the sword should 
never return to the scabbard till the tomb of Christ was delivered from the 



THE NATIONAL LIFE. . 335 



"hands of the infidel. One desire animated every heart, one purpose filled 
every bosom ; the contagion spread from house to house and kingdom to 
kingdom. " It became an enthusiasm, a passion, a madness." Nearly a 
quarter of a million fell on the very threshold of the undertaking. Yet an 
army of six hundred thousand men at length stood in gorgeous array on 
the plains of Asia, and, with waving banners and pealing trumpets, began 
to hew their way to the tomb of Christ. Swept away by famine, pestilence 
and the sword, they still pressed on till but half of their number was left 
to fling themselves on the walls of Jerusalem. Behold them at length 
approaching Bethlehem. A deputation of Christians go forth to meet them, 
and in a moment that weary, wasted army is moved like the forest by a 
sudden wind. Bethlehem is before them, the place where the Saviour was 
born. The name awoke a thousand touching associations, and thrilled 
every heart with strange rapture. That night the excited host could not 
sleep, and at midnight took up their line of march for Jerusalem. In dead 
silence — many with bare feet and uncovered heads— pressed tremblingly on 
through the darkness. At length, the sun, with that suddenness which 
always accompanies an eastern dawn, rushed into the heavens, and there 
lay Jerusalem before them. The object of all their toils, for which they 
had endured famine and pestilence, and been mowed down by the sword of 
the infidel, the one bright object of their lives, smiling in sunny beauty at 
their feet. There was Mount Olivet, there Mount Calvary, and there, too, 
the sepulchre of the Saviour. Oh ! who can describe the emotions that 
then swept through that Christian host. Some knelt down and prayed, 
others leaped, shouting, into the air ; the mailed knight sobbed like an 
infant, until at length the murmur, " Jerusalem !" arose at first faint and 
low, like the far-off sound of the sea, but gradually swelling to the full- 
voiced thunder, till " Jerusalem ! Jerusalem !" filled all the air, and rolled 
gloriously to the heavens. Then, taking fire at the thought that the holy 
city and sacred tomb were in the hands of unbelievers, they raised the 
battle-cry and went pouring forward on the walls, like the inrolling tide of 
the sea. — /. F. Headley. 



EUROPEAN AND AMERICAN CIVILIZATION. 

THE progress of civilization in Europe is hindered by the burdens of 
military armaments, public debts, interest, and taxation, together with 
the inability of the people in many of the states to produce from the soil 
what they consume, and the want of popular government. To-day, Europe, 
professing to be Christian, is a vast military camp. The tramp of soldiers 



336 THE NATIONAL LIFE. 

is heard on every hand. Standing armies on a scale the world has never 
seen, occupy most of the states, armed with the most approved machinery 
for human slaughter, facing each other and ready at a moment's notice to 
grapple in a deadly struggle ; all for no higher purpose than to satisfy 
dynastic ambitions. 

France, Germany, Holland, Italy, Belgium, and Great Britain furnish 
to their standing armies 2,200,000 able-bodied men, who, instead of 
contributing to the production of wealth, cost each on an average annually 
about $225 to support, or in the aggregate about $500,000,000. One million 
two hundred and twenty-four thousand men, or about one-eighteenth of the 
whole adult workers of France, Germany, and England are in their armies, 
and taken from industrial pursuits. 

THE HOPE OF EUROPEAN PROGRESS. 

With this great drain on these countries and with these embarrass- 
ments, is there reasonable hope of European civilization making substantial 
progress ? If European civilization is to prosper, large national debts must 
disappear ; able-bodied men must be taken from the armies and restored to 
industrial pursuits and the production of wealth ; classes and distinction in 
society must pass away ; labor must get a larger share of what it produces, 
and sooner or later the people must have popular government. If, in the 
march of progress, European civilization shall reach this point it will then,, 
in many essential things, only be abreast of American civilization to-day. 

Will all this be done through peaceful means or through blood ? Will 
another French revolution, as Carlyle predicted, be the dreadful instru- 
mentality employed to accomplish this purpose ? 

AMERICAN CIVILIZATION. 

Meantime, American civilization can not stand still. It, too, must go 
forward on higher lines and nobler planes in the direction of humanity, 
morality, and the brotherhood of man. Unsettled questions and pressing 
problems are the police of the world, always on duty, giving nations no> 
repose, and bidding humanity move ever on. 

The physical position of the United States on the globe is command- 
ing and important. Her territory measures the width of a continent which 
is washed by two oceans. It lies on the great highway in the march of 
civilization from the East to the West, in the charmed climatic belt, between 
those parallels of latitude which have produced the greatest men of all times ; 
within which the greatest transactions in human history have taken place,, 
the greatest tiiumphs in art, literature, and war occurred, and the greatest 
peoples come and gone. It contains a population of more than 62,000,000 of 




"rrje K'Oup Lscadcrs o Kirs! Lrusadc 



THE NATIONAL LIFE. 339 



free people, increasing at the rate of nearly 2,000,000 per annum, the sun 
going down on 5,000 more people each day. It has 150,000 miles of railroad, 
230,000 miles of telegraph lines, 25,000 miles of ocean and lake coast, 20,000 
miles of navigable rivers, over and along which is carried and transacted 
trade and commerce which amounts to $50,000,000,000 per annum. In aid 
of industrial progress the people of the United States enjoy 250,000 inven- 
tions protected by patents. The value of agricultural and manufactured 
products amount annually to more than $13,000,000,000. The annual gross 
receipts of one of their railway systems amount to more than the income of 
the oldest empire of the world, with 400,000,000 population. Government 
bonds sell at a premium of 25 per cent. The National Treasury is over- 
flowing, and Congress and the Executive are embarrassed by the increasing 
volume of the revenues. The number of its standing army is only about 
28,000 men, or one in 2,200 of population. 

INTEREST ON THE PUBLIC DEBT 

amounts to about $95,000,000 per annum ; making the total expenses on 
account of the public debt, the army and navy only about $150,000,000 per 
annum. It is estimated that in another century the wealth of the United 
States will exceed that of Europe, and that their population will in two 
centuries reach more than five hundred million. While wages in Europe 
are only about one-third of those in the United States, the cost of living is 
only a trifle less ; some authorities claiming for the same kind of living the 
cost is about equal. It is estimated that the people of the United States 
consume three times as much per capita as the people of Europe. In other 
words, 60,000,000 Americans consume as much as 180,000,000 Europeans. 

CONTRAST BETWEEN THE UNITED STATES AND EUROPE. 

The contrast in all these things between the United States and 
Europe is striking and strikingly in favor of the United States. The social 
and political condition of the people is already in advance of that of any 
other people of the world. Mr. Matthew Arnold, in his article criticising 
civilization in the United States, says : " The political and social problem 
does seem to be solved there with remarkable success. * * * It is 
undeniable that their institutions do work well and happily. * * * It 
in general, as to its own political and social concerns, sees clear and thinks 
straight. * * * For that immense class of people, the great bulk of the 
community, the class of people whose income is less than £300 or £400 a year, 
things in America are favorable. It is easier for them there than in the Old 
World to rise and make their fortune. Things are favorable to them in 
America. Society seems organized for their special benefit." — 5. B. Elkins. 



340 THE NATIONAL LIFE. 

RETRIBUTION. 

THE Almighty has his own purposes. "Woe unto the world because of 
offences ! for it must needs be that offences come ; but woe to that 
man by whom the offence cometh." If we shall suppose that American 
slavery is one of those offences which, in the providence of God, must needs 
come, but which, having continued through His appointed time, He now 
wills to remove, and that He gives to both North and South this terrible war, 
as the woe due to those by whom the offence came, shall we discern therein 
any departure from those Divine attributes which the believers in a Living 
God always ascribe to Him ! Fondly do we hope, fervently do we pray, 
that this mighty scourge of war may speedily pass away. Yet, if God wills 
that it continue until all the wealth piled by the bondsman's two hundred 
and fifty years of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of 
blood drawn with the lash shall be paid by another drawn with the sword, 
as was said three thousand years ago, so still it must be said, " The judg- 
ments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether." 

With malice toward none ; with charity for all ; with firmness in the 
right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we 
are in ; to bind up the nation's wounds ; to care for him who shall have borne 
the battle, and for his widow, and his orphan — to do all which may achieve 
and cherish a just and a lasting peace among ourselves, and with all nations. 
— Lincoln. 



o 



AMERICAN ARISTOCRACY. 

F all the notable things on earth, 
The queerest one is pride of birth 

Among our " fierce democracy !" 
A bridge across a hundred years, 
Without a prop to save it from sneers, 
Not even a couple of rotten peers, — 
A thing for laughter, fleers, and jeers, 

Is American aristocracy S 

English and Irish, French and Spanish, 
Germans, Italians, Dutch, and Danish, 
Crossing their veins until they vanish 

In one conglomeration ! 
So subtle a tangle of blood indeed, 
No Heraldry Harvey will ever succeed 

In finding the circulation. 



THE NATIONAL LIFE. 341 



Depend upon it, my snobbish friend, 
Your family thread you can't ascend 
Without good reason to apprehend 
You may find it zuaxcd, at the farther end, 

By some plebeian vocation : 
Or, worse than that, your boasted line 
May end in a loop of stronger twine 

That plagued some worthy relation ! 

— J. G. Saxe. 



THE PILGRIM FATHERS. 

METHINKS I see it now, that one solitary, adventurous vessel, the May- 
flower of a forlorn hope, freighted with the prospects of a future state, 
and bound across the unknown sea. I behold it pursuing, with a thousand 
misgivings, the uncertain, the tedious voyage. Suns rise and set, and 
weeks and months pass, and winter surprises them on the deep, but brings 
them not the sight of the wished-for shore. I see them now, scantily 
supplied with provisions, crowded almost to suffocation in their ill-stored 
prison, delayed by calms, pursuing a circuitous route ; and now 
driven in fury before the raging tempest, on the high and giddy wave. 
The awful voice of the storm howls through the rigging ; the laboring masts 
seem straining from their base ; the dismal sound of the pumps is heard ; 
the ship leaps, as it were, madly, from billow to billow; the ocean breaks, 
and settles with ingulfing floods over the floating deck, and beats, with 
deadening, shivering weight, against the staggered vessel. I see them, 
escaped from these perils, pursuing their all but desperate undertaking, and 
landed, at last, after a few months' passage, on the ice-clad rocks of 
Plymouth, — weak and weary from the voyage, poorly armed, scantily 
provisioned, without shelter, without means, surrounded by hostile 
tribes. 

SHUT THE VOLUME OF HISTORY. 

Shut now the volume of history, and tell me, on any principle of 
human probability, what shall be the fate of this handful of adventurers? 
Tell me, man of military science, in how many months were they all swept 
off by the thirty savage tribes enumerated within the early limits of New 
England ? Tell me, politician, how long did this shadow of a colony, on 
which your conventions and treaties had not smiled, languish on the distant 
coast? Student of history, compare for me the baffled projects, the 
deserted settlements, the abandoned adventures, of other times, and find the 



342 THE NATIONAL LIFE. 



parallel of this Was it the winter's storm, beating upon the houseless heads 
of women and children? was it hard labor and spare meals? was it disease? 
was it the tomahawk ? was it the deep malady of a blighted hope, a ruined 
enterprise, and a broken heart, aching, in its last moments, at the. recollec- 
tion of the loved and left, beyond the sea ? — was it some or all of these 
united, that hurried this forsaken company to their melancholy fate ? And 
is it possible that neither of these causes, that not all combined, were able 
to blast this bud of hope ? Is it possible that from a beginning so feeble, 
so frail, so worthy, not so much of admiration as of pity, there has gone 
forth a progress so steady, a growth so wonderful, an expansion so ample, a 
reality so important, a promise, yet to be fulfilled, so glorious ? — Edward 
Everett. 



LABOR AND WAGES. 

THE laborer is worthy of his hire ; but just what his proper hire is, may 
sometimes be difficult to tell ; and if this was settled, he is not always 
sure that he shall obtain it, nor satisfied if he gets it. Hence workingmen 
form various combinations by which they undertake to secure their rights 
and equalize their wages. In some cases they attain their ends ; in other 
instances, the)' fail. 

An intelligent and forcible writer offers some helpful suggestions 
concerning the matter : 

" In a boat's crew there is but one man who can hold the wheel, and 
the world will always pay to that man more than it will to any one of the 
men who shovel coal into her furnace. So long as there are more men who 
can dig a ditch or hold a plough than there are men who can manage a 
business, so long will the business manager get more wages than the 
ploughman or digger of ditches. 

THE TALLEST TREE WILL ALWAYS DRAW MOST 

nutriment from the earth ; the lion will always eat more than the rabbit, 
and the elephant demand a larger pasture than the ox. As men increase 
in knowledge, their wants increase ; and while the savage is content in a 
cave or wigwam, the civilized man wants a palace. The man who spends 
his wages in beer and tobacco is a lower order of man than he who buys a 
book and a musical instrument. The book and instrument cost more 
originally than the one supply of beer and tobacco, and he who buys and 
makes them his means of amusement, will be apt to derive and receive 
more wages than he who finds his comfort in the beer-mug. Those who 
want higher wages should cultivate the higher attributes of manhood ; for 



THE NATIONAL LIFE. 343 



brain power, the spiritual forces, will always take precedence of mere 
muscle or brute force. 

" The time spent in clamoring for higher wages, if devoted to 
learning how to do better work, would ensure that prosperity which clamor 
and complaining fail to win. 

PROPORTION OF WAGES NOT ADJUSTED. 

" It is highly probable that the proportion of wages among the 
different classes of laborers is not rightly adjusted; and my remedy for 
this would be for every man to make, for himself, the best bargain he can, 
and for the tallest fellows among the workmen to straighten up, reach up, 
grow up, and overshadow the capitalists who abuse their power. Let every 
man set about becoming a capitalist, and there will not be so much capital 
to get into the hands of any one man. It is in the power of every man to 
save something from his wages, and when he has one dollar and his debts 
paid, he begins to be a capitalist. When he gets a home, his next step is 
to get a share in the business, into which he puts his brain and muscle 
power, and to have a voice in its management. A few thousand men 
growing up from the ranks of muscular labor, will soon crowd small tyrants 
off the platform of employers ! Level up, boys ! Level up ! Do not pin 
each other down ! Get away with your old rolling-pins, by which you crush 
the best laborers down to the level of mediocrity. Let your tall pillars 
grow ! Do not, for God's sake, and your own sake, cut the heads off your 
best men. 

BENEFIT OF SUPERIORITY. 

" If any man can run an engine better than any other man, let him 
have the full benefit of his superiority. If he gets one hundred dollars a 
month, and inferior men get but fifty, there is fifty dollars premium offered 
to any man and every man who will run an engine as well as he does. It 
is the premium of higher wages which is the great incentive to improve 
ment. Take this away, and your workmen are like dried apples on a string, 
all of one sort and all of one size. In the individual struggle io\ 
superiority, some must excel others ; for there must be a foremost and a 
hindmost in every race. The foremost will get the highest wages, and let 
us hope make the wisest use of them. What kind of horses would we have 
in this country, if, in every race, the runners had all been tied abreast to a 
long pole, and no one permitted to get ahead of the other? Well, our 
union workmen have engaged to run the race of life on exactly this 
plan. They are able to keep abreast, and if one dares to get before the 
others, the union, with a big club, knocks him on the nose. It is rather a 
queer way of developing speed and endurance. If I had not, sometimes, 



344 THE NATIONAL LIFE. 

c>een women do very stupid, things, it would, to me> be incredible that any 
man who has sense enough to get up in the morning, wash himself and eat 
his breakfast, could stand up in a row with a lot of other men of all sizes, 
and hold still while some one went over them with a big mowing machine, 
cut them all down to the height of the shortest, and leave them standing 
there like stubble in an old wheat-field. Of course, the machine does not 
out the bodies in two, but it cuts off their aspirations, their ambitions, their 
power of growth in their profession, and leaves them like headless stalks of 
wheat. The earth, as it now is, is composed of land and water. The land 
is divided into mountains, hills, plains, valleys. Suppose the valleys should 
insist upon having the plains, hills and mountains all cut or rolled down to 
their level 5 That would recall the fish period, and man would go to fields 
Elysian. The water is divided into oceans, lakes, ponds, rivers, creeks and 
rivulets. Suppose the ponds and rivulets should procure an equal divide of 
water, would they or anything else be the better for the change ? Suppose 
all the running streams should go out on a strike, and refuse to carry water 
to those haughty capitalists, the lakes and oceans. Do you not see that it 
would spoil the general arrangement? — Swisshelm. 



THE INDUSTRIAL PROBLEM. 

IF the South has a race problem forced upon it, the North is concerned with 
the class problem, which will press as severely for consideration. After 
the experience of the past few years the blindest optimist can not fail to see 
that the industrial question is fairly raised. 

Progress in civilzation is not made or marked by the rise of only a 
part of society. The certain sign of progress is when the general level rises, 
when the condition of the whole body of society is improved and when the 
life of the people at large is ennobled. Of the various aspects of the 
industrial problem one is pre-eminently important. Carlyle said : " A man 
willing to work and unable to find work, is perhaps the saddest sight that 
fortune's inequality exhibits under the sun." There is always employment 
for the person that knows how to do useful things and do them well. 
The state should not undertake to find employment for its citizens, but it 
should afford them an opportunity to win at least manual training or an 
industrial education, so that they may be aided in finding employment. As 
far back as 1700, the state of Connecticut passed a law requiring parents 
and guardians to bring up children to some lawful calling or employment, 
and fixing a penalty for failure to do so. In the " Frame of Government " 
drawn up by William Penn for his colony on the Delaware, it was provided 
that " all children of the age of twelve were to be taught some useful trade." 



THE NATIONAL LIFE. 34$ 

The people must be satisfied and contented in order that society may- 
be peaceful and government may be stable. Permanent discontent or 
degradation of the people will work the downfall of the Republic. 
Generally, a majority of the people will be satisfied and contented when 
they can find employment which brings as a reward the means of subsistence 
— food, clothing, shelter and something for education. It is plain that 
whatever proper methods will enable the people to find employment should 
be adopted. The chief means to this end — the one nearest at hand — is the 
true education of the people. The people of the United States enjoy a 
great public system of education. It is yielding good results. It should 
however, be broadened, so as to embrace manual training and industrial 
education, such as the states of Europe, particularly England, France > 
Germany, Austria, and Italy, are encouraging, to a degree never before 
known. Schools for teaching nearly all the trades, among them weaving, 
designing, dyeing, and dairy farming, are being established and endowed by 
the governments. 

A NATIONAL UNIVERSITY. 

As a model for true and full education for Americans, Con- 
gress should establish and endow a national university. On this point 
Washington said : " That a national university in this country is a thing to 
be desired, has always been my decided opinion, and the appropriation of 
grounds and funds for it in the Federal City has long been contemplated." 

In it should be combined all the departments of the best universities 
of this country and Europe, and added to these there should be depart- 
ments to teach everything bearing upon art and industry. This great 
institution should be made the source and well-spring of Americanism, a 
constant living and potent protest against the increasing Anglo-mania in 
the country and the servile imitation of European manners and European 
thought. 

THE NEEDED EDUCATION. 

Other sciences are needed in American civilization than the science 
of getting wealth — sciences affecting the industrial and social progress of 
American manhood. Could there not also be the science of living correctly 
and attaining human happiness, which should teach thrift, care, economy, 
gentleness, forbearance, good manners, charity, and humanity, and, above all, 
the building of individual and national characters. Parents and teachers 
should be character builders. Wealth and materialism pass away, character 
abides. All one can take hence is character. 

Enormous sums of money are paid out by the states and the general 
Government to repress crime and to take care of criminals and paupers. 



346 THE NATIONAL LIFE. 



If half this money should be spent in promoting a true and complete 
education of the people, crime and vice would largely disappear, society and 
the Government would be more secure. 

In the United States there are 16,000,000 church-members and 310,000 
churches and Sunday-schools. If in towns, cities, and thickly populated 
portions of the country each church should establish and maintain a 
kindergarten or some other school for the free education and manual 
training of poor children the churches would at once become the centres of 
a great educational movement throughout the land. — 5". B. Elkins. 



ENCOURAGING ZEAL. 

LINCOLN was not jealous of a member of his cabinet who was also a 
candidate for the Presidency and showed vigor and energy in his 
department. " My brother and I," said Lincoln, " were once ploughing 
corn on a Kentucky farm, I driving the horse and he holding the plough. 
The horse was lazy, but on one occasion rushed across the field, so that I, 
with very long legs, could scarcely keep pace with him. I found an enormous 
chin-fly fastened on him, and knocked it off. • My brother asked me what I 
did that for. I told him, ' I didn't want the old horse bitten in that way.' 
' Why,' said my brother, ' that's all that made him go! " " Now,' said Mr. 

Lincoln, " if Mr. has a Presidential chin-fly biting him, I'm not going 

to knock it off ; it will only make his department go." 



MEMORIAL OF PATRIOTISM. 

THE year 1842 was noted for the completion of Bunker Hill Monument 
No enterprise of a similar character had, in the whole history of the 
country, called forth so much patriotic enthusiasm. The foundation of the 
noble structure was laid on the 17th of June, 1825, the corner-stone being 
put into its place by the venerable Lafayette. Daniel Webster, then 
young in years and fame, delivered the oration of the day, while 200 
revolutionary veterans, forty of them survivors of the battle fought on that 
hill-crest just fifty years before, gathered with the throng to hear him. But 
the work of erection went on slowly. More than $150,000 were expended, 
and seventeen years elapsed before the grand shaft, commemorative of the 
heroes, living and dead, was finished. At last the work was done, and the 
mighty column of Quincy granite, thirty-one feet square at the base, and 
two-hundred and twenty-one feet in height, stood out sublimely against the 
clouds and sky. It was deemed fitting, however, to postpone the dedication 



THE NATIONAL LIFE. 347 



tmtil the next anniversary of the battle, and preparations were made 
accordingly. On the 17th of June, 1843, an immense multitude of people, 
including most of the Revolutionary soldiers who had not yet fallen, gathered 
from all parts of the republic to witness the imposing ceremony. Mr. 
Webster, now full of years and honors, was chosen to deliver the address of 
dedication, a duty which he performed in a manner so touching and eloquent 
as to add new lustre to his fame as an orator. The celebration was 
concluded with a public dinner given in Faneuil Hall, the cradle of American 
liberty. 



A SURRENDER DEMANDED. 

THE daring and eccentric Ethan Allen was chosen colonel of a company 
of 270 patriots. To capture Ticonderoga with its vast magazines of 
stores was the object of Allen, and the audacious mountaineers of whom he 
was the leader. Benedict Arnold left Cambridge and joined the expedition 
as a private. Qn the evening of the 9th of May, they reached the eastern 
shore of Lake Champlain opposite Ticonderoga. Only a few boats could be 
procured, and when day broke on the following morning, but eighty-three 
men had succeeded in crossing. With this mere handful — for the rest could 
not be waited for — Allen, with Arnold by his side, made a dash and gained 
the gateway of the fort. The sentinel was driven in, closely followed by the 
mountaineers, who set up such a shout as few garrisons had ever heard. 
Allen's men hastily faced the barracks, and stood ready to fire, just as he 
himself rushed to the quarters of Delaplace, the commandant, and shouted 
for the incumbent to get up. The startled official thrust out his head. 
"Surrender this fort, instantly !" said Allen. " By what authority?" said the 
astounded officer. " In the name of the Great Jehovah and the Continental 
Congress!" said Allen, flourishing his sword. Delaplace had no alternative. 
The garrison, numbering forty-eight, were made prisoners and sent to Connec- 
ticut. A fortress which had cost Great Britain eight million pounds sterling, 
was captured in ten minutes by a company of undisciplined provincials. One 
hundred and twenty cannon and vast quantities of military stores fell into 
the hands of the Americans. 



REPUBLIC PRESAGED. 

IN April the fleet left Bristol, and on the morning of the 24th of June, at 
a point about the middle of the eastern coast of Labrador, the gloomy 
shore was seen. This was the real discovery of the American Continent. 
Fourteen months elapsed before Columbus reached the coast of Guiana, and 



348 THE NATIONAL LIFE. 



more than two years elapsed before Ojeda and Vespucci came in sight of 
the mainland of South America. Cabot explored the shore line of the 
country which he had discovered for several hundred miles. He supposed 
that the' land was a part of the dominions of the Cham of Tartary ; but 
finding no inhabitants, he went on shore, according to the terms of his 
commission planted the flag of England, and took possession in the name 
of the English King. No man forgets his native land; by the side of the 
flag of his adopted country Cabot set up the banner of the Republic of 
Venice — auspicious emblem of another flag that should one day float from 
sea to sea. 

VOW OF GRATITUDE. 

IMMEDIATELY after the battle of Antietam, Lincoln said to his Cabinet. 
" The time of the annunciation of the Emancipation policy could no 
longer be delayed." Public sentiment he thought would sustain it, many 
of his warmest friends and supporters demanded it, and he had promised His 
God that fie would do it. " I made a solemn vow before God, that if General 
Lee was driven back from Pennsylvania I would crown the result by the 
declaration of freedom to the slaves." 



"THE LIBERTY TREE SONG." 

IT was in 1765 that the famous '• Liberty Tree" was christened in Boston, 
and thereafter it was used as a posting-place for patriotic songs and 
broadsiders, and many a good one was pasted upon its rough bark until 
1774, when the British army took possession of Boston, when the majestic 
old elm which had been planted one hundred and sixty years previous was 
felled. But the old elm had its avengers. Other Liberty trees, we are told, 
were consecrated in Charlestown, Lexington and Roxbury, Mass.; also, in 
Newport and Providence, R. I. One was also chosen in Charleston, S. C. 

It was in defence of the " Liberty Trees" that the chorus of songsters 
first broke out in full volume. The songs before had been scattering and 
fragmentary. The fall of the " Liberty Tree" seems to have marked the 
growth to vigor of the American national song. The cleverest of the 
ballads drawn out by this event appears to have been that published in the 
Pennsylvania Magazine of July, 1775. It is eminently worthy of repro- 
duction: 

LIBERTY TREE SONG. 

In a chariot of light from the regions of day 
The Goddess of Liberty came, 



THE NATIONAL LIFE. 349 

Ten thousand celestials directed the way, 

And hither conducted the dame. 
A fair budding branch from the gardens above, 

Where millions and millions agree, 
She brought in her hand as a pledge of her love, 

The plant she named Liberty Tree. 

The celestial exotic struck deep in the ground, 

Like a native it flourished and bore ; 
The fame of its fruit drew the nations around, 

To seek out this peaceable shore. 
Unmindful of names or distinction they came, 

For freemen like brothers agree ; 
With one spirit endued, they one friendship pursued. 

And their temple was Liberty Tree. 

Beneath this fair tree, like the patriarchs of old, 

Their bread in contentment they ate, 
Unvexed with the troubles of silver and gold, 

The cares of the grand and the great. 
With timber and tar they Old England supplied, 

And supported her power on the sea ; 
Her battles they fought without getting a groat, 

For the honors of Liberty Tree. 

But hear, O ye swains, 'tis a tale most profane, 

How all the tyrannical powers, 
Kings, commons and lords, are meeting amain, 

To cut down this guardian of ours ; 
From the east to the west blow the trumpet to arms, 

Thro' the land let the sound of it flee ; 
Let the far and the near unite with a cheer 

In defence of our Liberty Tree 



"AN APPEAL TO LADIES." 

AFTER the Stamp Act was passed, the following "Appeal to Ladies " 
was made to help in a practical "boycott " on English goods. In this 
ladies were called on, among other things, to — 

Throw aside your topknots of pride, 

Wear none but your own country's linen ; 



350 THE NATIONAL LIFE. 



Of economy boast, let your pride be the most 

To show clothes of your own make and spinning. 

* * * * 

And as one, all agree, that you'll not married be 

To such as will wear London factory; 
But at first sight refuse, tell 'em such you will choose 

As encourage our own manufactory. 

* * * * 

These do without fear, and to all you'll appear 

Fair, charming, true, lovely, and clever ; 
Though the times remain darkish, young men may be sparkish, 

And love you much stronger than ever. 

The appeal had its effect, for in ensuing years the exports from 
England to the Colonies fell off in a startling degree. 



w 



"THE PENNSYLVANIA SONG." 

E are the troop that ne'er will stoop 

To wretched slavery, 
Nor shall our seed, by our base deed, 

Despised vassals be. 
Free born, we will bequeath to them 

Or we will bravely die. 
Our greatest foe ere long shall know 

How much did Laudurch lie, 
And all the world shall know 

Americans are free ; 
Nor slaves and cowards we will prove, 

Great Britain soon shall see. 

We'll not give up our birthright ; 

Our foes shall find us men 
As good as they in any shape, 

The British troops shall ken. 
Huzza ! brave boys, we'll beat them 

On any hostile plain ; 
For freedom, wives and children dear, 

The battle we'll maintain. 



THE NATIONAL LIFE. -&x 



THE FAITH OF FRANKLIN AND JEFFERSON. 

THE Church had been allied with political oppression, and many men 
failed to distinguish between Christianity, which is Divine, and the 
Church, which is human. On the continent of Europe there was a universal 
shout for liberty. That European shout found an echo in America, but it 
was a response against a perverted Church, rather than against Christianity, 
the author and conservator of liberty. The founders of this Republic were 
not against Christianity, but against a political Church. Jefferson and. 
Franklin are quoted as unbelievers, but the historic records prove the 
assertion false. The following letter was addressed by Thomas Jefferson 
to a lad who had been named after the immortal sage of Monticello : 

THOMAS JEFFERSON TO THOMAS JEFFERSON GROTJAN. 

" Your affectionate mother requests that I would address to you 
as a namesake something which might have a favorable influence on the 
course of life you have to run. Few words are necessary, with good disposi- 
tions on your part. Adore God, reverence and cherish your parents, love 
your neighbor as yourself, and your country more than life ; be just, be 
true, murmur not at the ways of Providence ; and the life into which you 
have entered will be the passage to one of eternal and ineffable bliss. And 
if to the dead it is permitted to care for the things of this world, every 
action of your life will come under my regard. 

" Farewell. 

"Monticello, fan. 10, ' 24.." 

Nor is it true that Benjamin Franklin can be reckoned among the 
unbelievers. In the Constitutional Convention of 1787, when differences of 
opinion were rife, it was Franklin who introduced a motion for daily prayers 
and supported that motion in the following eloquent words : 

" In the beginning of the contest with England, when we were 
sensible of danger, we had daily prayers in this room for Divine protection. 
Our prayers, sir, were heard; and they were graciously answered ; all of us 
who were engaged in the struggle must have observed frequent instances 
of a superintending Providence in our favor. To this kind Providence we 
owe this happy opportunity in peace for the means of establishing our 
future National felicity. And have we now forgotten that powerful Friend, or 
do we imagine we no longer need Flis assistance ? I have lived, sir, a long time, and 
the longer I live the more convincing proofs I see of this truth : that God' 
governs in the affairs of men. And if a sparrow can not fall to the ground 
without His notice, is it probable that our empire can rise without His aid : 



352 THE NATIONAL LIFE. 

We have been assured, sir, in the sacred writings, that ' Except the Lord 
build the house, they labor in vain that build it.' I firmly believe this ; and 
I also believe that without His concurring aid we shall succeed in this 
political building no better than the builders of Babel. We shall be divided 
by our little partial, local interests ; our projects will be confounded, and we 
ourselves shall become a reproach and a byword down to future ages. And, 
what is worse, mankind may hereafter, from this unfortunate instance, 
despair of establishing government by human wisdom, and leave it to 
chance, war and conquest. I therefore beg leave to move that henceforth 
prayers, imploring the assistance of Heaven, and its blessings on our 
deliberations, be held in this assembly every morning before we proceed to 
business ; and one or more of the clergy of this city be requested to officiate 
in that service." 

FRANKLIN NOT AN UNBELIEVER. 

Franklin is sometimes quoted as a patron of Paine's infidelity, but 
the following letter, which appears in Spark's Life and Works of Benjamin 
■Franklin, vol. x, p. 281, shows how false is the aspersion: 

" Dear Sir : — I have read your manuscript with some attention. By 
the argument it contains against a particular Providence, though you allow 
a general Providence, you strike at the foundations of all religion. For, 
without the belief in a Providence that takes cognizance of, guards and 
guides, and may favor particular persons, there is no motive to worship a 
deity, to fear his displeasure or to pray for his protection. I will not 
enter into any discussion of your principles, though you seem to desire it. 
At present I shall only give you my opinion, that though your reasonings are 
subtle, and may prevail with some readers, yet you will not succeed so as to 
change the general sentiments of mankind on that subject, and the 
consequence of printing this piece will be a great deal of odium drawn upon 
yourself, mischief to you, and no benefit to others. He that spits against the 
wind spits in his own face. 

NOT EASY TO BE VIRTUOUS WITHOUT RELIGION. 

" But were you to succeed, do you imagine any good would be done 
by it ? You yourself may find it easy to live a virtuous life without the 
assistance afforded by religion, you having a clear perception of the 
advantages of virtue and the disadvantages of vice, and possessing a 
strength of resolution sufficient to resist common temptations. But think 
how great a portion of mankind consists of weak and ignorant men and 
women, and of inexperienced, inconsiderate youth of both sexes, who have 
need of the motives of religion to restrain them from vice, to support their 



THE NATIONAL LIFE. 353 



virtue, and retain them in the practice of it till it becomes habitual, which 
is the great point of its security. 

" And perhaps you are indebted to her originally ; that is, to your 
religious education, for the habits of virtue upon which you now justly 
value yourself. You might easily display your excellent talents of 
reasoning upon a less hazardous subject, and thereby obtain a rank with 
our most distinguished authors. For among us it is not ■ necessary, as 
among the Hottentots, that a youth to be raised into the company of men 
should prove his manhood by beating his mother. 

" I would advise you, therefore, not to attempt unchaining the tiger, 
but to burn this piece before it is seen by any other person ; whereby you 
will save yourself a great deal of mortification by the enemies it may raise 
against you, and perhaps a good deal of regret and repentance. If men are 
so wicked ivith religion, what zvould they be zvithout it? I intend this letter 
itself as a proof of my friendship, and thereby add no professions to it, but 
subscribe myself, Yours, 

" B. Franklin." 



T 



WASHINGTON'S VOW. 
READ AT THE INAUGURATION CENTENNIAL. 

HE sword was sheathed ; in April's sun 
Lay green the fields by Freedom won ; 
And severed sections, weary of debates, 
Joined hands at last and were United States. 

O City sitting by the sea ! 

How proud the day that dawned on thee, 

When the new era, long desired, began, 

And, in its need, the hour had found the man ! 

One thought the cannon salvoes spoke, 

The resonant bell-tower's vibrant stroke, 

The voiceful streets, the plaudit-echoing halls, 

And prayer and hymn borne heavenward from St. Paul' 

How felt the land in every part 

The strong throb of a nation's heart, 

As its great leader gave, with reverent awe, 

His pledge to Union, Liberty and Law ! 



354 THE NATIONAL LIFE. 



That pledge the heavens above him heard, 
That vow the sleep of centuries stirred ; 
In world-wide wonder listening peoples bent 
Their gaze on Freedom's great experiment. 

Could it succeed ? Of honor sold 

And hopes deceived all history told. 

Above the wrecks that strewed the mournful past, 

Was the long dream of ages true at last ? 

Thank God ! the peoples' choice was just, 
The one man equal to his trust ; 
Wise beyond lore, and without weakness good, 
Calm in the strength of flawless rectitude ! 

His rule of justice, order, peace, 

Made possible the world's release ; 

Taught prince and serf that power is but a trust, 

And rule alone which serves the ruled, is just. 

That Freedom generous is, but strong 
In hate of fraud and selfish wrong ; 
Pretence that turns her holy truths to lies 
And lawless license masking in her guise. 

Land of his love ! with one glad voice 

Let thy great sisterhood rejoice; 

A century's suns o'er thee have risen and set, 

And, God be praised, we are one nation yet. 

And still, we trust, the years to be 
Shall prove his hope was destiny, 
Leaving our flag, with all its added stars, 
Unrent by faction and unstained by wars ! 

Lo! where with patient toil he nursed 
And trained the new-set plant at first, 
The widening branches of a stately tree 
Stretch from the sunrise to the sunset sea. 



THE NATIONAL LIFE. 355 



And in its broad and sheltering shade, 

Sitting with none to make afraid, 

Were we now silent, through each mighty limb, 

The winds of heaven would sing the praise of him. 

Our first and best! — his ashes lie 

Beneath his own Virginia sky. 

Forgive, forget, O true and just and brave, 

The storm that swept above thy sacred grave ! 

For ever in the awful strife 

And dark hours of the nation's life, 

Through the fierce tumult pierced his warning word, 

Their father's voice his erring children heard ! 

The change for which he prayed and sought 

In that sharp agony was wrought ; 

No partial interest draws its alien line 

'Twixt North and South, the cypress and the pine ! 

One people now, all doubt beyond, 

His name shall be our Union-bond ; 

We lift our hands to Heaven, and here and now, 

Take on our lips the old Centennial vow. 

For rule and trust must needs be ours ; 
Chooser and chosen both are powers 
Equal in service as in rights ; the claim 
Of Duty rests on each and all the same. 

Then let the sovereign millions, where 
Our banner floats in sun and air, 
From the warm palm-lands to Alaska's cold, 
Repeat with us the pledge a century old ! 

— /. G. Whit tier. 



" MASSA LINKUM." 

THEIR masters fled upon the approach of our soldiers, and this gave the 
slaves a conception of a power greater than their masters exercised. 
This power they called " Massa Linkum." Colonel McKaye said, on a certain 
day when there was quite a large gathering of the people (in their praise 
house), considerable confusion was created by different persons attempting 



356 THE NATIONAL LIFE. 



to tell who and what " Massa Linkum " was. " Bredren," said their white- 
haired leader, " you don't know nosen what you'se talkin' 'bout; now you 
just listen to me : Massa Linkum he be everyw*har, he know eberyt'ing." 
Then solemnly looking- up, he added : " He walk de earf like de Lord!" Mr. 
Lincoln was very much affected by this account. He did not smile, as 
another might have done, but got up from his chair and walked in silence 
two or three times across the floor. As he resumed his seat he said, very 
impressively: "It is a momentous thing to be the instrument under 
Providence of the liberation of a race." 

ANXIETY OF RESPONSIBILITY. 

Schuyler Colfax said : " One morning I found Lincoln looking more 
than usually pale and worn, and inquired the reason. He replied, with the 
bad news he had received at a late hour the previous night, which had not 
yet been given to the press, he had not closed his eyes nor breakfasted. 
With an expression I shall never forget, he exclaimed : " How willingly would 
I exchange places to-day with the soldier who sleeps on the ground in the 
Army of the Potomac !" 

ILL-TIMED ADVICE. 

Some Western gentlemen were excited about the commissions and 
omissions of Lincoln's administration. He said : " Gentlemen, suppose all 
the property you were worth was in gold, and you had put it in the hands of 
Blondin to carry across Niagara River on a rope, would you shake the cable 
or keep shouting to him, " Blondin, stand up a little straighter ! Blondin, 
stoop a little more — go a little faster — lean a little more to the North — 
lean a little more to the South ! No ; you would hold your breath as well as 
your tongue. The Government is carrying an immense weight. Untold 
treasures are in its hands. It is doing the very best it can. Don't 
badger it." 

VIGOROUS LOYALTY. 

At a beer-saloon much frequented by conservatives, Bismarck, one 
evening, just as he had taken his seat, and was about to take his first glass 
of beer, overheard a man who sat at the next table speak of a member of 
the royal family in a particularly insulting manner. Bismarck rose, and 
lifting his glass of beer, thundered out : " Out of the house ! If you are not 
out when I have drunk this beer, I will break this glass upon your head." 
Upon this, there was a wild commotion in the room, and loud outcries, but 
Bismarck drank his glass of beer with the utmost composure. When he 
had finished it, he smashed the glass upon the offender's head. The outcry 
ceased for a moment, and Bismarck said, quietly, "Waiter, what is to pay 



THE NATIONAL LIFE. 357 



for this broken glass ? " Bismarck's commanding look and bearing carried 
the day. The beer-drinkers applauded the act, and the man dared not 
resent it. 

THE HONORED STATE. 

Virginia is proud of being called " the Mother of Presidents," and 
has a right to the name. Washington, Jefferson, Madison, Monroe, and 
Harrison were all her sons, but there are many other illustrious children 
whose names would receive no additional lustre from the Presidential office. 
This is particularly true of General Samuel Houston, the father and first 
President of the Republic of Texas. He was born on the 2d of March, 
1793, in Richmond, Va. 

DANGER FROM INTEMPERANCE TO OUR POLITICAL 
INSTITUTIONS. 

IF we do nothing to stop the evil, the solemn question for the American 
people is not out of place : Will the Republic survive ? No people, so 
much as we, need, for the very life of their political institutions, to 
cultivate sobriety; and yet America takes rank among the intemperate 
nations of the world. In monarchies and empires it matters far less how 
the people behave; the ruling power may still guide aright the ship of 
state. In a republic the people are the rulers; each citizen exercises 
through his vote sovereign power. The right of suffrage is a most sacred 
trust; the life of the commonwealth depends upon its proper exercise. 
From each one of us God will on the judgment day demand an account of 
our civic, as well as our private acts, and, before Him, the citizen will stand 
guilty who will have aided by his vote to place in office, state or municipal, 
bad or dangerous men. 

NOR WILL THE PLEA OF MERE PARTY POLITICS EXCUSE 

him ; loyalty to the country is the first and highest political duty. If ever 
the Republic fail, it will be because our form of government presupposes 
men better than they are. Behold, then, our danger — a danger which no 
republic in Rome or Athens ever encountered, a danger peculiarly our own 
— alcohol! Woe betide the Republic of the West, if hundreds of thousands 
deposit their ballots while the fumes of alcohol darken their brain; if the 
caucus of the reigning party is held around a saloon-counter ; if the party 
slate is ever written near the whiskey bottle or the beer-glass ! Woe betide 
her if the men chosen by popular vote to enact or administer our laws 
cringe through fear before saloon-keepers, receive their inspiration from the 
whiskey and beer elements in the population, and speak and act at the 



358 THE NATIONAL LIFE. 



bidding of King Alcohol! Yet, if we look well at things, the peril is upon 
us. The liquor element shows itself most bold in politics ; if daring and 
courage were the sole qualifications for power, it would assuredly deserve 
to reign. On the other hand, the moral and conservative men in the 
population too often shrink away into quiet security, timid and inactive. 
As the result, the most incapable and the worst men in city and state may 
at any time be entrusted with the reins of authority, and be permitted to 
shatter with fatal blow the pillars upon which rest our most cherished 
institutions. If the Republic is to be perpetuated, alcohol should be made 
to feel that it is barely tolerated, and that it must never under severe 
penalty court power or seek to control politics. Alcohol cannot be the 
political king ; else, the Republic becomes a mere memory of the past. — 
Bishop Ireland. 



HEROISM. 



IN a hospital at Nashville, a wounded hero was lying on the amputating 
table under the influence of chloroform. They cut off his strong right 
arm, and cast it all bleeding upon the pile of human limbs. He woke from 
his stupor and missed his arm. With his left hand he lifted the cloth, and 
there was nothing but the gory stump. " Wheres my arm?" he cried. 
" Get my arm ; I want to see it once more, my strong right arm." They 
brought it to him. He took hold of the cold, clammy fingers, and, looking 
steadily at the poor dead member, thus addressed it with tearful earnest- 
ness : " Good-by, old arm ! We have been a long time together. We must 
part now. Good-by, old arm ! You'll never fire another carbine or swing 
another sabre for the Government ;" and the tears rolled down his cheeks. 
He said to those standing by : " Understand, I don't regret its loss. It has 
been torn from my body that not one state should be torn from this glorious 
Union." 



PUBLIC PATRIOTISM. 

LYCURGUS taught his citizens to think nothing more disagreeable than 
to live by, or for, themselves. Like bees, the Spartans acted with one 
impulse for the public good. They were possessed with a thirst of honor 
and enthusiasm, bordering upon insanity, and had not a wish but for their 
country. These sentiments are confirmed by some of their aphorisms. 
When Psedaritus lost his election for one of the three hundred, he went 
away rejoicing that there were three hundred better men than himself found in 
the city. Pisistratides, going with some others, ambassador to the King of 



THE NATIONAL LIFE. 359 

Persia's lieutenants, was asked whether they came with a public commission, 
or on their own account, to which he answered, " If successful, for the 
public ; if unsuccessful, for ourselves." 



GENEROUS POLITICS. 

WILLIAM PENN'S great care was to draw up a frame of government 
for Pennsylvania. Herein too was his great temptation. He had 
almost exhausted his father's estate in aiding the persecuted Quakers. A 
stated revenue would be necessary in conducting his administration. His 
proprietary rights under the charter were so ample that he might easily 
have reserved for himself large prerogatives and great emoluments in the 
government. He had before him the option of being a consistent honest 
Quaker, or a politic wealthy Governor. He chose like a man; right 
triumphed over riches. The constitution which he framed was liberal 
almost to a fault, and the people were allowed to adopt or reject it as they 
might deem proper. 



LYDIA DARRAH'S PATRIOTISM. 

AFTER the battle of Germantbwn, Washington took up his headquarters 
at Whitemarsh, twelve miles from Philadelphia. Winter was 
approaching, and the patriots began to suffer for food and clothing. Howe, 
knowing the distressed condition of the Americans, determined to surprise 
their camp. On the evening of the second of December he held a council 
of war, and it was decided to march against Washington the following 
night. But Lydia Darrah, at whose house the council was held, overheard 
the plan of the enemies of her country. On the following morning she 
obtained a passport from Lord Howe, left the city under the pretence of 
going to mill, rode rapidly to the American lines, and sent information of 
the impending attack to Washington. 



HONORABLE RECOMPENSE. 

WHEN a boy, Abraham Lincoln borrowed a Life of Washington. 
During a severe storm he improved his leisure by reading his book. 
One night he laid it down carefully, as he thought, and the next morning 
he found it soaked through. The wind had changed, the storm had beaten 
in through a crack in the logs, and the appearance of the book was ruined. 
He had no money to offer as a return, but he took the book and went 



}6o THE NATIONAL LIFE. 



directly to the owner, showed him the irreparable injury, and frankly and 
honestly offered to work for him till he should be satisfied. He got the 
book in return for three days' steady labor in "pulling fodder." 



THE NEW SOUTH. 

^HPHE New South " is in no sense disparaging to the Old. Dear to me 
1 is the home of my childhood and the traditions of my people. 
There is a new South, not through protest against the old, but because of 
new conditions, new adjustments and, if you please, new ideas and aspirations. 
It is to this that I address myself. I ask you to picture, if you can, the foot- 
sore soldier, who, buttoning up in his faded gray jacket the parole which 
was taken, testimony to his children of his fidelity and faith, turned his face 
southward from Appomattox in April, 1865. Think of him as ragged, half- 
starved, heavy-hearted, enfeebled by want and wounds ; having fought to 
exhaustion, he surrenders his gun, wrings the hands of his comrades, and 
lifting his tear-stained and pallid face for the last time to the graves that 
dot the old Virginia hills, pulls his gray cap over his brow and begins the 
slow and painful journey. What does he find- — let me ask you who went to 
your homes eager to find all the welcome you had justly earned, full 
payment for your four years' sacrifice — what does he find, when he reaches 
the home he left four years before ? 

HE FINDS HIS HOUSE IN RUINS, HIS FARM 

devastated, his slaves freed, his stock killed, his barns empty, his trade 
destroyed, his money worthless, his social system, feudal in its magnificence, 
swept away, his people without law or legal status, his comrades slain, and 
the burdens of others heavy on his shoulders. Crushed by defeat, his very 
traditions gone. Without money, credit, employment, material, or training 
— and besides all this, confronted with the gravest problem that ever met 
human intelligence — the establishing of a status for the vast body of his 
liberated slaves. 

What does he do — this hero in gray with a heart of gold — does he 
sit down in sullenness and despair ? Not for a day. Surely God, who had 
scourged him in his prosperity, inspired him in his adversity ! As ruin was 
never before so overwhelming, never was restoration swifter. The soldier 
stepped from the trenches into the furrow ; horses that had charged Federal 
guns marched before the plough, and fields that ran red with human blood 
in April were green with the harvest in June ; women reared in luxury cut 
up their dresses and made breeches for their husbands, and with a patience 




f l)e Jierfile of Jiur^er pi] 



THE NATIONAL LIFE. 363 

and heroism that fits woman always as a garment, gave their hands to work. 
There was little bitterness in all this. Cheerfulness and frankness prevailed. 
" Bill Arp " struck the keynote when he said : " Well, I killed as many of them 
as they did of me, and now I am going to work," or the soldier, returning 
home after defeat, and roasting some corn on the roadside, who made the 
remark to his comrades : " You may leave the South, if you want to, but I 
am going to Sanderville, kiss my wife, and raise a crop, and if the Yankees 
fool with me any more I will whip 'em again." I want to say to General 
Sherman — who is considered an able man in our parts, though some people 
think he is a kind of careless man about fire — that from the ashes left us in 
1 864 we have raised a brave and beautiful city ; that somehow cr other we 
have caught the sunshine in the bricks and mortar of our homes and have 
builded therein not one single ignoble prejudice or memory. 

THINGS THAT HAVE BEEN ACCOMPLISHED. 

But what is the sum of our work ? We have found out that in the 
general summing up the free negro counts more than he did as a slave. 
We have planted the school-house on the hill-top and made it free to white 
and black. We have sowed towns and cities in the place of theories, and 
put business above politics. We have challenged your spinners in Massa- 
chusetts and your iron makers in Pennsylvania. We have learned that the 
$400,000,000 annually received from our cotton crop will make us rich, when 
the supplies that make it are home-raised. We have reduced the commercial 
rate of interest from twenty-four to six per cent, and are floating four per 
cent, bonds. We have learned that one Northern immigrant is worth fifty 
foreigners and have smoothed the path to the southward, wiped out the 
place where Mason and Dixon's line used to be, and hung our latch-string 
out to you and yours. 

WE HAVE REACHED THE POINT THAT MARKS PERFECT 

harmony in every household, when the husband confesses that the pies which 
his own wife cooks are as good as those his mother used to bake ; and we 
admit that the sun shines as brightly and the moon as softly as it did 
" before the war." We have established thrift in city and country. We 
have fallen in love with work. We have restored comfort to homes from 
which culture and elegance never departed. We have let economy take 
root and spread among us as rank as the crab-grass which sprung from 
Sherman's cavalry camps, until we are ready to lay odds on the Georgia 
Yankee as he squeezes pure olive oil out of his cotton-seed, against any 
down-easter that ever swapped wooden nutmegs for flannel sausages in the 
valleys of Vermont. Above all, we know that we have achieved in these 



364 THE NATIONAL LIFE. 



" piping times of peace " a fuller independence for the South than that 
which our fathers sought to win in the forum by their eloquence or compel 
on the field by their swords. 

It is a rare privilege, sir, to have had part, however humble, in this 
work. Never was nobler duty confided to human hands than the uplifting 
and upbuilding of the prostrate and bleeding South, misguided, perhaps, 
but beautiful in her suffering, and honest, brave and generous always. In 
the record of her social, industrial and political restoration we await with 
confidence the verdict of the world. 

WHAT OF THE NEGRO? 

But what of the negro ? Have we solved the problem he presents or 
progressed in honor and equity towards its solution ? Let the record speak 
to this point. No section shows a more prosperous laboring population 
than the negroes of the South, none in fuller sympathy with the employing 
and land-owning class. He shares our school fund, has the fullest 
protection of our laws and the friendship of our people. Self-interest, as 
well as honor, demand that he should have this. Our future, our very 
existence depend upon our working out this problem in full and exact 
justice. We understand that when Lincoln signed the Emancipation 
Proclamation, your victory was assured, for he then committed you to the 
cause of human liberty, against which the arms of man can not prevail, while 
those of our statesmen who made slavery the corner-stone of the Confederacy 
doomed us to defeat, 

COMMITTING , US TO A CAUSE WHICH REASON COULD NOT DEFEND 

or the sword maintain in the light of advancing civilization. Had Mr. 
Toombs said, which he did not say, that he would call the roll of his slaves 
at the foot of Bunker Hill, he would have been foolish, for he might have 
known that whenever slavery became entangled in war it must perish, and 
that the chattel in human flesh ended forever in New England when your 
fathers— not to be blamed for parting with what didn't pay — sold their 
slaves to our fathers — not to be praised for knowing a paying thing when 
they saw it. The relations of the Southern people with the negro are 
close and cordial. We remember with what fidelity for four years he 
guarded our defenceless women and children, whose husbands and fathers 
were fighting against his freedom. To his eternal credit be it said that 
whenever he struck a blow for his own liberty he fought in open battle, and 
when at last he raised his black and humble hands that the shackles might 
be struck off, those hands were innocent of wrong against his helpless 
charges and worthy to be takjn in loving grasp by every man who honors 



THE NATIONAL LIFE. 365 



loyalty and devotion. Ruffians have maltreated him, rascals have misled 
him, philanthropists established a bank for him, but the South, with the 
North, protests against injustice to this simple and sincere people. To 
liberty and enfranchisement is as far as law can carry the negro. The rest 
must be left to conscience and common sense. It should be left to those 
among whom his lot is cast, with whom he is indissolubly connected, and 
whose prosperity depends upon their possessing his intelligent sympathy 
and confidence. Faith has been kept with him in spite of calumnious 
assertions to the contrary by those who assume to speak for us or by frank 
opponents. Faith will be kept with him in the future, if the vSouth holds 
her reason and integrity. 

THE SOUTH HAS KEPT FAITH WITH THE NORTH. 

But have we kept faith with you ? In the fullest sense, yes. When 
Lee surrendered — I don't say when Johnston surrendered, because I 
understand he still alludes to the time when he met General Sherman last 
as the time when he " determined to abandon any further prosecution of 
the struggle" — when Lee surrendered, I say, and Johnston quit, the South 
became, and has since been, loyal to this Union. We fought hard enough 
to know that we were whipped, and in perfect frankness accepted as final 
the arbitrament of the sword to which we had appealed. The South 
found her jewel in a toad's head. The shackles that had held her in narrow 
limitations fell forever when the shackles of the negro slave were broken. 
Under the old regime the negroes were slaves to the South, the South was 
a slave to the system. Thus was gathered in the hands of a splendid and 
chivalric oligarchy the substance that should have been diffused among 
the people, as the rich blood is gathered at the heart, filling that with 
affluent rapture but leaving the body chill and colorless. 

A PEOPLE EMANCIPATED BY DEFEAT. 

The Old South rested everything on slavery and agriculture, uncon- 
scious that these could neither give nor maintain healthy growth. The New 
South presents a perfect democracy, the oligarchs leading into the popular 
movement — a social system compact and closely knitted, less splendid on 
the surface, but stronger at the core — a hundred farms for every plantation, 
fifty homes for every palace — and a diversified industry that meets the 
complex needs of this complex age. 

The New South is enamored of her new work. Her soul is stirred 
with the breath of a new life. The light of a grander day is falling fair on 
her face. She is thrilling, sir, with the consciousness of growing power 
and prosperity. As she stands full-statured and equal among the people of 



2,66 THE NATIONAL LIFE. 



the earth, breathing the keen air and looking out upon an expanding 
horizon, she understands that her emancipation came because in the 
inscrutable wisdom of God her honest purpose was crossed, and her brave 
armies were beaten. This is said in no spirit of time-serving and apology. 
I should be unjust to the South if I did not make this plain in this presence. 
The South has nothing to take back ; nothing for which she has excuses to 
make. In my native town of Athens is a monument that crowns its central 
hills — a plain white shaft. Deep cut into its shining sides is a name dear 
to me above the names of men, that of a brave and simple man who died 
in brave and simple faith. Not for all the glories of New England, from 
Plymouth Rock all the way, would I exchange the heritage he left me in his 
patriot's death. To the foot of that shaft I shall send my children's 
children to reverence him who ennobled their name with his heroic blood. 
But, sir, speaking from the shadow of that memory, which I honor as I do 
nothing else on earth, I say that the cause in which he suffered and for 
which he gave his life was adjudged by higher and fuller wisdom than 
his or mine, and I am glad that the omniscient God held the balance of 
battle in His Almighty hand and that the American Union was saved from 
the wreck of war. 

CONSECRATED GROUND. 

This message comes to you from consecrated ground. Every foot of 
the soil about the city in which I live is sacred as a battle-ground of the 
Republic. Every hill that invests it is hallowed to }'-ou by the blood of 
your brothers who died for your victory and doubly hallowed to us by the 
blood of those who died hopeless but undaunted in defeat — sacred soil to 
all of us — rich with memories that make us purer and stronger and better — 
silent but Staunch witness in its rich desolation of the matchless valor of 
American hearts and the deathless glory of American arms — speaking and 
eloquent witness in its white peace and prosperity to the indissoluble 
Union of American States, and the imperishable brotherhood of the 
American people. 

WHAT ANSWER? 

What answer have you to this message ? Will you permit the 
prejudice of war to remain in the hearts of the conquerors, when it has 
died in the hearts of the conquered? Will you transmit this prejudice to 
the next generation, that in hearts which never felt the generous ardor of 
conflict it may perpetuate itself? Will you withhold, save in strained 
courtesy, the hand which straight from his soldier's heart Grant offered to Lee 
at Appomattox ? Will you make the vision of a restored and happy people, 
which gathered above the couch of your dying captain, filling his heart 



THE NATIONAL LIFE. 367 



with peace, touching his lips with praise, and glorifying his path to the 
grave — will you make this vision on which the last sigh of his expiring soul 
breathed a benediction, or cheat, or delusion ? If you do, the South, never 
abject in asking for comradeship, must accept with dignity its refusal. But 
if you do not refuse to accept in frankness and sincerity this message of 
good-will and friendship, then will the prophecy of Webster, delivered to 
this very society forty years ago amid tremendous applause, be verified in 
its fullest and final sense, when he said : " Standing hand to hand and 
clasping hands, we should remain united as we have been for sixty years, 
citizens of the same country, members of the same Government, united, all 
united now and united forever. There have been difficulties, contentions, 
and controversies, but I tell you that in my judgment — 

" ' Those opposed eyes, 
Which, like the meteors of a troubled heaven, 
All of one nature, of one substance bred, 
Did lately meet in the intestine shock, 
Shall now, in mutual well-beseeming ranks, 
March all one way.' " 

— H. W. Grady. 



BRIBERY -RESENTED. 

THE career of Stephen A. Douglas presents a strange mixture of good 
and evil. He was an incorruptible man, though no one ever had more 
or better chances to gain money unlawfully. Once when he was confined to 
his room by an abscess, he was waited upon by a millionaire, who offered 
to give him a deed for two and a-half million acres of land, now worth 
$20,000,000, if he would merely give up a certain document. "I jumped for 
my crutches," Douglas used to say, in telling the story ; " he ran from the 
room and I gave him a parting blow upon the head." 



NATURALIZED CITIZENS. 

THE Roman republic gloried in her generous policy, and was frequently 
rewarded by the merit and services of her adopted sons. Had she 
always confined the distinctions of Romans to the ancient families within 
the walls of the city, that immortal name would have been deprived of some 
of its noblest ornaments. Virgil was a native of Mantua ; Horace was 
inclined to doubt whether he should call himself an Apulian or a Lucanian ; 
it was in Padua that an historian was found worthy to record the majestic 



368 THE NATIONAL LIFE. 

series of Roman victories. The patriot family of the Catos emerged from 
Tusculum ; and the little town of Arpinum claimed the double honor of 
producing Marius and Cicero, the former of whom deserved, after Romulus 
and Camillus, to be styled the Third Founder of Rome ; and the latter, after 
having saved his country from the designs of Catiline, enabled her to 
contend with Athens for the palm of eloquence. 



ECONOMICAL GOVERNMENT. 

WHEN Washington came to the Presidency, one of his first acts was to 
name the young West Indian, then but thirty-three years of age, to the 
most difficult post in his administration — that of secretary of the treasury. 
Albert Gallatin, who became secretary of the treasury twenty years after, 
said that Alexander Hamilton had so regulated the business of the office as 
to make it a sinecure for his successors ; and as late as i860, the business' 
continued to be done upon the plans and methods established by Hamilton 
at the beginning of the Government. From this position, after four years of 
service, he was compelled to retire, because the salary would not support 
his family. 



UNSELFISH PATRIOTISM. 



DURING the American Revolution, while General Reed was President 
of Congress, the British Commissioners offered him a bribe of ten 
thousand guineas to desert the cause of his country. His reply was: 
" Gentlemen, I am poor, very poor ; but your King is not rich enough to 
buy me." 



A CENTURY'S PROGRESS. 

THE nation has been rejoicing over a hundred years of National Life and 
the wonderful progress seen on every hand. It has been a century of 
invention. Not a year has passed without adding something that we have 
cause to think an indispensable utensil in our modern civilization. In the 
political jubilee it is well to remember the Christian's ground for rejoicing. 
With the growth of the nation, even outstripping it, has gone on the 
growth of the Church. We see so clearly in the men their electrical search- 
light of modern criticism, the defects of our Christian work, that we are apt 
to think of the past as better than the present. 



THE NATfONAL LIFE. 369 



Yet stop and think for a moment. Take any one of the great questions 
of the day. Temperance. — The first temperance society in America was 
formed in 1 789 by some farmers in Connecticut. Now the various organi- 
zations number millions among their members, and we have a political 
party of no mean strength doing valiant battle against the vice of drink. 
To be drunk was then no disgrace, even for a minister of the Gospel. 
To-day it debars a man from any polite circle. The Sabbath. — We are so 
wont to look upon the Puritan Sabbath as the ideal holy day that we forget 
how small a number of the people at that time paid any attention to it or 
observed it in the slightest degree. The proportion of Sabbath-keepers in 
the whole population of the country has changed wonderfully for the better, 
and that notwithstanding the great influx of foreigners. Church work. — ' 
This is the age of missions, foreign, home and city. On every hand the 
church is organizing as never before for a great attack upon the combined 
forces of heathenism, infidelity and corrupt Christianity. 

EFFORTS TO ELEVATE MANKIND. 

Social reform. — At no time have there been so many well-directed 
efforts to elevate mankind. Slavery has received the ban of popular as well 
as Church disapproval. Labor laws have been changed, children are 
protected. Even"dumb animals have found those who would assert' their 
rights to kindly treatment and care. 

Prisons have been entered and lightened with Christian influence. 
Fallen men and women are reached out after and receive not repulsion, but 
help toward a better life. The Scarlet Letter has given place to the 
midnight missions, and many a home where there was little but despair has 
become the abode of joy and peace. 

It is well to look the facts of sin in the face, but it is well also to 
recognize the mercies that have crowned this century of our growth as a 
people. 



ONE OF WASHINGTON'S LETTERS. 

JUST now, when all good people are making comparisons between the 
present and the " good old times," and when they are disposed to 
think that the comparison is rather badly against us who are living, it is 
well enough to remember that our great and good Washington wrote some 
letters that his successor' in these degenerate days never has and never 
would have written. As, for instance, this : 



37© THE NATIONAL LIFE. 

Mt. Vernon, 2 July, 1766. 

To Capt. Joh. Thompson : Sir : — With this letter comes a negro (Tom), 
which I beg the favor of you to sell in any of the islands you may go to, 
for whatever he will fetch, and bring me in return for him : 

One hhd of best molasses. 

One ditto of best rum. 

One barrel of lymes, if good and cheap. 

One pot of tamarinds, containing about ten pounds. 

Two small ditto of mixed sweetmeats, about five pounds each. 

And the residue, much or little, in good old spirits. 

That this fellow is both a rogue and a runaway (tho' he was by no 
means remarkable for the former, and never practiced the latter till of late) 
I shall not pretend to deny, but that he is exceedingly healthy, strong and 
good at the hoe, the whole neighborhood can testify, and particularly Mr. 
Johnson and his son, who have both had him under them as foreman of the 
gang, which gives me reason to hope he may, with your good management, 
sell well if kept clean and trimmed up a little when offered for sale. 

I shall very cheerfully allow you the customary commissions on this 
affair, and must beg the favor of you (lest he should attempt to escape) to 
keep him handcuffed till you get to sea, or in the bay, after which I doubt 
not but you may make him very useful to you. 

I wish you a pleasant and prosperous passage, and a safe and speedy 
return. George Washington. . 

Are we growing better or worse ? 



THE GOOD OLD TIMES. 

MODERN croakers over modern deterioriation may read with profit the 
Pastoral Letter issued in 1798, by the General Assembly of the 
Presbyterian Church, which sounded the following alarm : 

" When formidable innovations and convulsions in Europe threaten 
destruction to morals and religion ; when scenes of devastation and 
bloodshed, unexampled in the history of modern nations, have convulsed 
the world ; and when our own country is threatened with similar calamities, 
insensibility in us would be stupidity ; silence would be criminal. * * * 
We desire to direct your awakened attention toward that bursting storm, 
which threatens to sweep before it the religious principles, institutions, and 
morals of our people. We are filled with deep concern and awful dread, 
while we announce it as our conviction that the eternal God has a 



THE NATIONAL LIFE. 371 



controversy with our nation, and is about to visit us in his sore displeasure. 
* * * "We perceive with pain and fearful apprehension a general dere- 
liction of religious principle and practice among our fellow-citizens ; a great 
departure from the faith and simple purity of manners for which our 
fathers were remarkable ; a visible and prevailing impiety and contempt for 
the laws and institutions of religion , and an abounding infidelity, which, 
in many instances, tends to atheism itself." 

In this alarming condition of things they say : 

"A dissolution of religious society seems to be threatened by 
the supineness and inattention of many ministers and professors of 
Christianity." 

" Formality and deadness, not to say hypocrisy, a contempt for vital 
godliness and the spirit of fervent piety, desertion of the ordinances, or 
a cold and unprofitable attendance upon them, visibly pervaded every part 
of the Church." 

" The profligacy and corruption of public morals have advanced with 
a progress proportioned to our declension in religion. Profaneness, pride, 
luxury, injustice, intemperance, lewdness, and every species of debauchery 
and loose indulgence, greatly abound." 



OFFICE-SEEKERS. 

WHEN the South was threatening civil war, and the armies of office- 
seekers were besieging Abraham Lincoln in the White House, he 
said he wished he could get time to attend to the Southern question ; but 
the office-seekers demanded all his time. " I am," said he, " like a man so 
busy letting rooms in one end of his house, that he can't stop to put out the 
fire that is burning in the other." Some gentlemen finding fault with him 
because certain Generals were not given commands, Mr. Lincoln said : 
" The fact is, I have got more /<f£-.y than I have holes to put them in." 



PATRIOTISM OF YOUNG MEN. 

WHEN General Grant visited Hamburg he attended a banquet in his 
honor and was spoken of as having saved his country. Grant 
replied : " I must dissent upon one remark, that I saved the country during 
the recent war. If our country could be saved or ruined by any one man, 
we should not have a country, and we should not now be celebrating our 
Fourth of July. If I had never held command— if I had fallen — if all our 



372 THE NATIONAL LIFE. 



Generals had fallen, there were ten thousand behind us who would have 
done our work just as well. What saved the Union was the coming- 
forward of the young men. So long as our young men are animated by this 
there will be no fear for the Union." 



AN UNEQUAL WARFARE. 

DURING the summer of 1776, Washington's forces were augmented to 
about 27,500 men ; but the terms of enlistment were constantly 
expiring ; sickness prevailed in the camp, and the effective force was but 
little more than half as great as the aggregate. On the other hand, Great 
Britain was making the vastest preparations. By a treaty with some of the 
petty German States, 17,000 Hessian mercenaries were hired to fight against 
America. George III was going to quell his revolted provinces by turning 
loose upon them a brutal foreign soldiery; 25,000 additional English troops 
were levied, an immense squadron was fitted out to aid in the reduction of 
the Colonies, and $1,000,000 were voted for the extraordinary expense of 
the War Department. 



OUR ORIGIN AND FUTURE. 

IT is significant that we stand above all nations in our origin. We started 
where other nations left off. Unrivalled for luxury and Oriental 
splendor, the Assyrians sprung from a band of hunters. Grand in her 
pyramids, and obelisks, and sphinxes, Egypt rose from that race despised by 
mankind. Great in her jurisprudence, giving law to the world, the Romans 
came from a band of freebooters on the seven hills that have been made 
immortal by martial genius ; and that very nation, whose poets we copy, 
whose orators we seek to imitate, whose artistic genius is the pride of the 
race, came from barbarians, cannibals ; and that proud nation beyond the 
sea, that sways her sceptre over land and ocean, sprang from painted 
barbarians — for such were the aborigines of proud Albion's Isle when 
Caesar invaded those shores. 

Our forefathers stood upon the very summit of humanity. Recall 
our constitutional convention. Perhaps no such convention had ever 
assembled in the halls of a nation. That convention, composed of fifty-five 
men, and such men ! They were giants in intellect, in moral character; all 
occupying a high social position; twenty-nine were university men, and 
those that were not collegiates were men of imperial intellects and of 
commanding common sense. In such a gathering were Franklin, the 



THE NATIONAL LIFE. 373 

venerable philosopher ; Washington, who is ever to be revered as patriot 
and philanthropist ; and Madison, and Hamilton, two of the most profound 
thinkers of that or of any other age. It is one of those marvels that we should 
recall of which we have a right to be proud ; but in our pride we should not 
fail to ascertain why the Almighty should start us as a nation at the very 
acme of humanity — redeemed, educated, and made grand by the influences 
of a Divine Christianity. Those men were not mere Colonists, nor were they 
limited in their patriotism. "No pent-up Utica" could confine their 
patriotism, for those men grasped the fundamental principle of human 
rights. Nay, they declared the ultimate truth of humanity, leaving 
nothing to be added since, thoiigh a century has passed. Great modifica- 
tions have come to the governments of Europe. 

SOME CHANGES HAVE TAKEN PLACE . 

in our National Life. Yet I appeal to your intelligent memory, to your 
calm judgments, if anything has been added to our declaration of rights, 
those declarations founded upon the constitution of Nature. These men 
voiced the brotherhood of the race. All other declarations prior to this 
were but dynasties, or were ethnic at most. But those men swept the 
horizon of humanity. These men called forth, as it were, the oncoming 
centuries of time, and in their presence declared that all men are created 
free and equal. 

They not only declared the ultimate truth of human rights, but they 
exhausted the right of revolution. They created a constitution founded 
upon the will of the people, based upon our great declaration of rights, 
embracing man's inalienable right to life, liberty, and happiness. The 
instrument which their genius created was left amendable by the oncoming 
wants of time, modified in subordinate relations which might be suggested 
by emergencies and the unfolding of our race. Here then are the great 
fingers of prophecy pointing to our future. 

BLESSED IN OUR POPULATION. 

And we have been equally favored in our population, whether we 
take the Puritans who landed in New England, the Dutch who landed in 
New York, or the English who crowded Maryland and Virginia. They 
were first-class families. Especially do we trace back with pride that 
glorious genius for liberty, for intelligence, for devotion manifested by 
those heroic men and women who, amid the desolations of a terrific winter 
landed on a barren rock to transform a vast wilderness, through which the 
wild man roamed, into a garden wherein should grow the flowers and the 
fruits of freedom. 



374 THE NATIONAL LIFE. 

We sometimes deprecate the cosmopolitan character of our popu- 
lation. It is a fact, however, that the best blood of the old world came to 
us until within ten years — not the decrepit, not the maimed, not the aged; 
for over fifty per cent, of those who came were between fifteen and 
thirty, and have grown up to be honorable citizens in the composition of 
our constitutional society. They came not as paupers. Many of them 
came, each bringing seventy dollars, some one hundred and eighty dollars,, 
and in the aggregate they brought millions of dollars. 

A CHANGE IN THE CHARACTER OF EMIGRANTS. 

There has been, however, a change, a manifest change, in the 
character of those from foreign shores within the last decade. The time 
was when we welcomed everybody that might emigrate to this country; 
when we threw our gates wide open ; when in our Fourth of July orations, 
we proclaimed this to be the asylum of the oppressed, the home of the 
down-trodden. But in the process of time this great opportunity afforded 
the nations of the old world came to be abused, and to-day is the largest 
source of our National danger. We are now bound to call a halt all along 
the line of emigration ; to say to those peoples of the old world that this 
is not a new Africa, nor a new Ireland, nor a new Germany, nor a new 
Italy, nor a new England, nor a new Russia ; that this is not a brothel for 
the Mormon, a fetich for the negro, a country for the ticket-of-leave man ; 
not a palace for the criminals and paupers of Europe ; but this country is 
for man — man in his intelligence, man in his morality, man in his love of 
liberty ; man, whosoever he is, whencesoever he cometh. 

We are determined by all that is honorable in law, by all that is 
energetic in religion, by all that is dear to our altars and our firesides, that 
this country shall not become un-American.—/. P. Newman. 



BEGINNING OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. 

ABOUT midnight, the British under the command of Colonel Smith and 
Major Pitcairn set out for Concord. The people of Boston, Charles- 
town and Cambridge were roused by the ringing of bells and the firing of 
cannons. Two hours before, the vigilant Joseph Warren, had despatched 
William Dawes and Paul Revere to ride with all speed to Lexington and to 
spread the alarm through the country. Against two o'clock in the morning 
the minute-men were under arms, and a company of one hundred and thirty 
had assembled on the Common at Lexington. 



THE NATIONAL LIFE. 375 



The patriots loaded their guns and stood ready; but no enemy 
appeared, and it was agreed to separate until the drum-beat should announce 
the hour of danger. At five o'clock, the British van under command of 
Pitcairn came in sight. The provincials to the number of seventy 
reassembled ; Captain Parker was their leader. Pitcairn rode up and 
exclaimed : " Disperse, ye villains ! Throw down your arms, ye rebels, and 
disperse !" The minute-men stood still ; Pitcairn discharged his pistol at 
them, and with a loud voice cried, " Fire !" The first volley of the Revolution 
whistled through the air, and sixteen of the patriots — nearly a fourth of 
the whole number — fell dead or wounded. The rest fired a few random 
shots and dispersed. 



OLD FAMILIES. 

PEOPLE are mistaken who suppose that we have here in America no old 
families. We have perhaps as many as other countries, only the 
torrent of emigration, and the suddenness with which new fortunes are 
made and lost, conceal the fact from our observation. The Adams family, 
for example, which descended from Thomas Adam, one of the first 
proprietors of Massachusetts, has gone on steadily increasing in wealth and 
numbers from 1620 to the present time, and the family estate still comprises 
the lands originally bought by the Adams who was grandfather to the 
second President of the United States. John Adams died worth $100,000. 
His son, John Quincy Adams, left, it is said, twice as much ; and his son, 
Charles Francis Adams, is supposed to be worth $2,000,000. 






PERSONAL LIBERTY AND THE SABBATH. 

THE war drums of the enemies of the Sabbath are beating. Their bugles 
are sounding a charge. They are marching upon us. " Hold the fort !" 
is God's order. Let the answer from all his people reverberate in thunder- 
tones over the whole land, an echo to the throne of God. " By thy grace we 
will." This war upon our Sabbath is a foreign war. 

How do you feel, you who were reared in this city where the nation 
was born ? Will you give up the American Sabbath, bequeathed to you by 
your fathers ? What have you to say to the transatlantic comers who 
propose to Europeanize America ? Are you cowardly enough to sit in sack- 
cloth and ashes before the enemies of God, while they impudently strike 



376 THE NATIONAL LIFE. 



at our most sacred institution ? Will you not defend it as long as there is 
any strength in your arm or blood in your heart ? 

" Woodman, spare that tree ! 
Touch not a single bough ! 
In youth it sheltered me, 
And I'll protect it now." 

If foreigners will not assimilate with us as Americans, if they do not 
admire our Sabbath and Christian institutions, if they want social incen- 
diarism and sabattic disorder, a go-as-you-please Sabbath, they are welcome 
to enjoy these things by recrossing the Atlantic : the sooner the better (and 
that too with our warmest benedictions). But if they stay here, we demand 
the enforcement of that central truth of statecraft — the liberty of the 
individual subject to the sovereignty of the state, the subordination of 
individual rights and privileges to the general good — these are the integra/ 
elements in a stable National Life. Bartholdi's Statue of Liberty, on Bedloe'.i 
Island, opposite Castle Garden, holding in her right hand a torch, should hold 
in her left hand a volume containing the laws and customs of the land, and 
before the right be extended in welcome, require, on bended knee, the left 
hand to be kissed as a token of submission to our laws, customs, and 
institutions. 

THE RIGHTS OF THE PEOPLE. 

We hear a great deal about the rights of the people. I wonder if 
God has any rights ? I wonder if He has the right to make the law, 
" Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy ?" The people have no rights 
save those which God gives them. 

The secularization of the Sabbath is a plain violation of the laws of 
the State. Every Sabbath-breaker is a criminal ; and he who attempts to 
override the laws of the State, insults every American citizen. 

It is a war upon our political institutions. In countries where the 
Sabbath is most profaned — like Spain, France, Italy, and Bavaria — society is 
grossly immoral. 

In Sabbath-observing England, Scotland, and . America, society is 
found in its highest moral tone. Pick out the hamlets, or cities, or wards 
of cities where the lowest moral conditions exist, and there, just in 
proportion, is the Sabbath desecrated. 

An eminent judge of the United States Supreme Court forcibly said .■ 
" Where there is no Christian Sabbath, there is no Christian morality ; and 
without this, free government can not be maintained." Blackstone says : 
"The Sabbath is of admirable service to the State, considered merely as a 



THE NATIONAL LIFE. 377 



civil institution." History's lesson is that morality and Sabbath keeping 
walk hand in hand in inseparable affinity. Society is degraded as 
Christianity is corrupted, and Christianity is vitiated as the Sabbath is 
perverted. History most clearly proves that every nation and community 
has been prospered while it honored God's Sabbath, and also that social 
order and the supremacy of the law have not been maintained where the 
Sabbath has been trampled upon. Look abroad over the map of popular 
freedom in the world, and Switzerland, England, Scotland, and the United 
States, the countries which best observe the Sabbath, constitute almost the 
entire map of safe popular government. 

DE TOCQUEVILLE ON AMERICAN INSTITUTIONS. 

Some years ago, De Tocqueville, the distinguished French statesman, 
was commissioned by his country to visit America, for the purpose of 
studying the genius of our institutions. In reporting to the French Senate, 
he said: " I went at your bidding and passed along their thoroughfares of 
trade ; I ascended their mountains and went down their valleys ; I visited 
their manufactories, their commercial markets and emporiums of trade ; I 
entered their judicial courts and legislative halls ; but I sought everywhere 
in vain for the secret of their success until I entered the Church. It was 
there, as I listened to the soul-equalizing and soul-elevating principles of 
the Gospel of Christ, as they fell from Sabbath to Sabbath upon the masses 
of the people, that I learned why America was great and free, and why 
France was a slave." In the dark days of the French Revolution, " the 
shabbiest page of human annals," as Carlyle calls it, the Divine Sabbath 
was trampled in the dust, and a tenth day was substituted without Divine 
sanction ; and so frightful did society become, that the infidel authorities 
had to reinstitute the Divine Sabbath and public worship of God, to save the 
metropolis and the country from utter desolation. France is yet reaping 
the sad vintage of her folly, and she will never have a permanent republic 
until she quits her roaring, roystering, and rollicking Sabbaths, and devotes 
one day in every week to the recognition of God. 

THE ISSUE OF THE SABBATIC CONTEST. 

I believe that the security or disaster of American institutions 
depends upon the issue of this sabbatic contest. The end of the Sabbath 
would be for the United States the beginning of the reign of Mammon, 
Bacchus, and Venus, which would finally overwhelm us in temporal and 
eternal ruin. From such a fate may the God of Lexington and Gettysburg 
deliver us ! The Sabbath question is a question of life and death in regard 
to Christianity. The enemies of our religion tried the sword and the fagot. 



378 THE NATIONAL LIFE. 



They could not destroy the Gospel. Imperial power found its arm too weak 
to contend with God. Argument, ridicule, sophistry were all in vain. 
Christianity rose with augmented power and in more resplendent beauty. 
The last weapon the enemy seeks to employ wherewith to destroy Chris- 
tianity, is to corrupt the Sabbath and make it a day of festivity and sensual 
gratification. Voltaire truly said : " There is no hope of ever destroying 
Christianity so long as the Sabbath is kept as a sacred day." Dr. Philip 
Schaff says : " The Sabbath is the strongest bond that binds the different 
Protestant denominations." 

I congratulate our city and commonwealth that so far we have almost 
entirely escaped this unchristian invasion ; and my confidence is in our 
mayor, our judges, and above all, in God, that the laws of the State of 
Pennsylvania will be executed. But I call upon all Christian citizens and 
lovers of political freedom, and workmen who value their day of rest, to 
stand unanimously and irresistibly in this Thermopylae of our American 
history. Declare before high Heaven that you will not give up the 
Sabbath, and that you will bring an ignominious defeat upon the enemies 
of God and the public weal. 



THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH. 

ON the discovery of the New Hemisphere, the tradition was widely 
spread throughout the Old, that it conceals a fountain whose 
ever-flowing waters have power to reanimate age and restore its prime. 
Bancroft says : " The tradition was true ; but the youth to be renewed was 
the youth of society ; the life to bloom afresh was the life of the race." 



MARRIAGE AND THE STATE. 

THE first sovereigns of all nations are said to have instituted marriage. 
Menes, the first king of Egypt; Fohi, the first sovereign of China; 
Cecrops, the first legislator of the Greeks. The earliest laws of many 
civilized nations likewise provided encouragements for matrimony. By the 
Jewish law a married man was for the first year exempted from going to 
war, and excused from the burden of any public office. 

Among the Peruvians he was free for a year from the payment of 
all taxes. . The respect for the matrimonial union can not be more clearly 
evinced than by the severity with which the greater part of the ancients 
restrained the crime of adultery. 



THE NATIONAL LIFE. 379 



GRANT'S AVERSION TO WAR. 

WHEN General Grant visited Germany, Bismarck regretted the Em- 
peror's illness did not permit his majesty to review his soldiers 
in person. 

Grant accepted the Crown Prince's invitation to a review for next 
morning, but with a smile continued : " The truth is, I am more a farmer 
than a soldier. I take little or no interest in military affairs ; and although 
I entered the army thirty-four years ago, and have been in two wars — in 
Mexico as a young lieutenant, and later — I never went into the army 
without regret, and never retired without pleasure." 



THE GROWTH OF OPINION. 

IN May, 1776, Washington at New York freely and repeatedly delivered 
his opinion : " A reconciliation with Great Britain is impracticable, and 
would be in the highest degree detrimental to the true interest of America : 
when I first took command of the army, I abhorred the idea of independ- 
ence, but I am now fully convinced that nothing else will save us." Public 
opinion was affected in the same way. 



NATIONAL PATRIOTISM. 

AT the Colonial Congress, in Philadelphia, Patrick Henry said : " British 
oppression has effaced the boundaries of the several colonies; the 
distinctions between Virginians, Pennsylvanians, New Yorkers and New 
Englanders are no more. I am not a Virginian, but an American." 



THE SECURITY OF THE STATE. 

NAPOLEON openly avowed his conviction that France, without educa- 
tion and without religion, was not prepared for the republicanism of 
the United States. In this sentiment Lafayette and most of the wisest men 
of the French nation concurred. In France at this time there was neither 
intelligence, religion nor morality among the masses. There was no 
reverence for law, neither human nor divine. 



380 THE NATIONAL LIFE. 

LAFAYETTE ON AMERICA'S FUTURE. 

GENERAL LAFAYETTE received the order of the King of France, to 
give up his expedition in aid of the Americans, but he braved the 
order and embarked for America. To his young wife he wrote on board the 
Victory at sea : " From love to me become a good American ; the welfare of 
America is closely bound up with the welfare of all mankind; it is about to 
become the safe asylum of virtue, tolerance, equality, and peaceful liberty." 



PROTECTION BY EDUCATION. 

CHARONDOS, the Grecian law-giver, required all children of the 
citizens to be educated in polite literature, the effect of which is to 
soften and civilize the minds of men, inspiring them with gentleness of 
manners, and inclining them to virtue ; all which constitute the felicity of a 
State, and are equally necessary to citizens of all conditions. In this view 
he appointed salaries (paid by the State) for masters and preceptors, in order 
that learning, by being communicated gratuitously, might be acquired by 
all. He considered ignorance as the greatest of evils, and the source 
whence all vices flowed. 



THE STAMP ACT. 

THE provisions of the Stamp Act were briefly these : Every note, bond, 
deed, mortgage, lease, license, and legal document of whatever sort 
required in the colonies should after the first day of the following November 
be executed on paper bearing an English stamp. This stamped paper 
was to be furnished by the British Government, and for each sheet the 
colonists were required to pay a sum varying, according to the nature of 
the document, from three pence to six pounds sterling. Every colonial 
pamphlet, almanac, and newspaper, was required to be printed on paper of 
the same sort, the value of the stamps in this case ranging from a half- 
penny to four pence ; every advertisement was taxed two shillings. No 
contract should be of any binding force unless written on paper bearing 
the royal stamp. The news of the hateful Act swept over America like a 
thunder-cloud. The muffled bells of Philadelphia and Boston rung a 
funeral peal ; and the people said it was the death-knell of liberty. In New 
York a copy of the Stamp Act was carried through the streets with a 
death's-head nailed to it: and a placard bearing this inscription: "The Folly 
of England and the Ruin of America." 




utsjx W.ifte. 









THE CHURCH LIFE 



w 



THE MODEL CHURCH. 

ELL, wife, I've found the model church — I worshipped there to-day ! 
It made me think of good old times, before my hair was gray. 
The meetin'-house was fixed up more than they were years ago, 
But then I felt when I went in, it wasn't built for show. 

The sexton didn't seat me away back by the door ; 

He knew that I was old and deaf, as well as old and poor ; 

He must have been a Christian, for he led me through 

The long aisle of that crowded church, to find a place and pew. 

I wish you'd heard that singin' — it had the old-time ring ; 

The preacher said, with trumpet voice, "Let all the people sing!" 

The tune was Coronation, and the music upward rolled, 

Till I thought I heard the angels all striking their harps of gold. 

My deafness seemed to melt away ; my spirit caught the fire ; 
I joined my feeble, trembling voice, with that melodious choir, 
And sang as in my yotithful days, "Let angels prostrate fall. 
Bring forth the royal diadem, and crown Him Lord of all." 

I tell you, wife, it did me good to sing that hymn once more ; 
I felt like some wrecked mariner who gets a glimpse of shore ; 
I almost wanted to lay down this weather-beaten form, 
And anchor in the blessed port forever from the storm. 

The preachin'? Well, I can't just tell all the preacher said; 
I know it wasn't written; I know it wasn't read; 
He hadn't time to read it, for the lightnin' of his eye 
Went flashin' along from pew to pew, nor passed a sinner by. 

The sermon wasn't flowery, 'twas simple gospel truth ; ' 
It fitted poor old men like me, it fitted hopeful youth. 
'Twas full of consolation for weary hearts that bleed ; 
Twas full of invitations to Christ,. and not to creed. 

383 



384 THE CHURCH LIFE. 



The preacher made sin hideous in Gentiles and in Jews ; 
He shot the golden sentences down in the finest pews, 
And— though I can't see very well — I saw the falling tear 
That told me hell was some ways off, and heaven very near. 

How swift the golden moments fled within that holy place ! 
How brightly beamed the light of heaven from every happy face ! 
Again I longed for that sweet time when friend shall meet with friend, 
"Where congregations ne'er break up, and Sabbaths have no end." 

I hope to meet that minister — that congregation, too — 

In that dear home beyond the stars that shine from heaven's blue. 

I doubt not I'll remember, beyond life's evening gray, 

That happy hour of worship in that model church to-day. 

Dear wife, the fight will soon be fought, the victory be won ; 
The shining goal is just ahead, the race is nearly run. 
O'er the river we are nearin', they are throngin' to the shore, 
To shout our safe arrival where the weary weep no more. 

— -John H. Yates. 

THE CHURCH NOT A CHARITY. 

THERE are many persons in thecommunity who regard every dollar spent 
for public worship as given in pure benevolence. What a monstrous 
error this is ! The Church of Christ in any sense a charity ? Never, thank 
God, Jesus commands men to set about the work ; he does not solicit 
subscriptions. 

The Church a charity ? It is not even a luxury, but a prime necessity 
in every community where it is either pleasant or safe to live. Must a city 
have pavements and side-walks and streets, lamps and water-works and 
parks and horse-railroads and libraries and museums? It can do without 
the whole of them better than it can do without a church. Must it have its 
court-houses and jails and police officers, and bolts and locks on the doors 
and fastenings to the windows, and impenetrable vaults in the banks? It 
would be safer without all of them than without a church. Let the Church 
of Christ in any community exercise its full power, and your court-houses 
would be closed, except for the trial of civil cases arising out of misunder- 
standings and not from malice; your jails might be swept away, and your 
policeman would be a needless official. Even with its hands tied and shorn 
of its strength as the Church stands to-day, it exerts an influence for 
morality and social order which is in advance of all others combined. 



THE CHURCH LIFE. 385 

Did you ever live for days and weeks in a community on which no 
such influence was brought to bear? — where men choose the open country, 
away from tree and bush, for fear of being shot down for the few shillings 
in their pockets ; where after dark they dare not venture into the streets of 
the town lest they should never return ; where night by night they load gun 
and pistol; where vice of every sort walks abroad in shameless exposure; 
where might makes right, and nameless squalor looks sadly up into the 
pitiless eyes of the tyranny that rides over it rough-shod ? 

The Church a charity! Let men who hold to this go and unlearn 
their folly in lands where the Church is not; or, better and fairer demon- 
stration, let them watch the setting up of the 

CHURCH OF CHRIST IN THE MIDST 

of some mass of brutalized humanity, and watch the gracious transforma- 
tions it effects from barbarism to civilization, from violence and vice to 
purity and good order and security. We have our tragedies, it is true, 
under our Christian civilization, but they are the exceptions, not the 
common law. Putting all questions of religious culture aside, the church 
is a financial and social necessity. Tear down the sanctuaries, and 
suspend public worship, and what would follow? On the ruins of the 
churches would rise the grog-shop and brothel. All classes of business, 
except those that minister to vicious indulgence, would languish. Men 
would fortify their houses like castles. Real estate would depreciate. 
Insurance companies would decline risks in such a godless community, not 
from piety but from policy. 

UNTHRIFT WOULD FLOURISH, LIFE BE INSECURE, 

wealth a hazardous possession. 

The Church supported by charity! Then the taxes we pay to 
support the government are given in charity, and our whole array of civil 
and legislative and judicial officers are pauper institutions supported by 
the benevolence of a generous people. 

The Church a charity! No, my friend. The money you spend for 
public worship is just as really spent upon yourself as though you put it 
into a garment to cover you, or a roof to shelter you. It all goes to 
establish the good, safe order of society on which we all depend for 
prosperity, security, and happiness. It is given to our business as really as 
if deposited in the bank, and the man who looks the facts squarely in the 
face dares not assert to the contrary. 



386 THE CHURCH LIFE. 



THE WORD "ORTHODOX." 

1TELL you that one of the most rational and stately words in the whole 
world is that word — "Orthodox." In one sense the word "Liberal" is 
a beautiful word — beautiful when used as a synonym for Toleration — 
beautiful when used as a measure of love for one's neighbor regardless of 
differences of opinion — but when used to indicate convictions which make 
men heroes in the conflicts of life, it is as shallow as the song of a sparrow. 
That word " Orthodox," coming as it does from Greek words meaning to 
think right, is a grand word. Under the enervating influence of this false 
and glittering word " Liberal," thousands of our young men are coming to 
the front to-day in both politics and theology, not knowing nor caring 
whether they are right. 

WHEN A MAN HAS POSITIVE CONVICTIONS, AND THEY 

have taken firm hold of his soul, and he at length is ready to say to all the 
world, " I am right ! " he simply proclaims himself orthodox. Imagine 
Martin Luther a free-and-easy-nineteenth-century Liberal ! Nothing indeed 
but the volcanic fire of an orthodox conviction ever could have made Luther 
throw the gage of battle down before the gates of Rome, and thunder 
everlasting defiance at the very throne of the Vatican. John Hampden, 
braving the English crown and refusing to pay his ship money, is my ideal 
of an orthodox man. Oliver Cromwell, rallying his hosts at Marston Moor 
with the battle cry, " The Lord of Hosts is with us ! " and at the battle of 
Dunbar leading his psalm-singing forces into a conflict where they slew 
three thousand of the enemy, 

TOOK TEN THOUSAND PRISONERS, AND LOST BUT 

thirty men, illustrates the power and earnestness of orthodoxy in the human 
soul. Leave the results, and the question of whether you are right or wrong 
to God and the verdict of history, but for your own day and at the bar of 
your own judgment be right — be orthodox. General Grant, marching 
yonder at the head of the Union forces, grim and silent, and with his iron 
jaw set with a purpose that must issue in death or victory — what was he 
but an embodiment of Northern orthodoxy on the question of the Union ? 
Stonewall Jackson was Presbyterian through and through, and he passed 
his nights before battle in prayer, for though we of the North believed him 
wrong, he in his soul believed himself right, and was ever ready to die, and 
at last he did die, for his faith. When death touched his lips he muttered 
" Let us cross over the river and rest tinder the trees,"- — and Northern man 
as I am and Union man as I was, I doubt not that the trees that Stonewall 
Jackson found were the palm trees of Paradise, and the niusic he heard 



THE CHURCH LIFE. 387 

beyond the Stream was the greeting of the Immortals. He was simply an 
orthodox Southern man. Lincoln was an orthodox Republican, and the world 
loved Lincoln while he lived, and the world loves Lincoln's memory now, 
because he had convictions and was true to them — true in his days of 
sadness — true in his hours of triumph — true with infinite patience — true to 
the end — true until his soul went up to the Great White Throne of God. It 
is the men who believe something, and believe that in believing it they are 
right — right — absolutely right, and that all who differ are eternally wrong — 
these men are they who move the world and are God's messengers -to and 
fro on the earth, whether for weal or woe. And so I pray you again, let us 
have done with that fashionable and flabby condition of brain which 
now-a-days turns from a belief because it is called an orthodox belief. — Geo. 
R. Wendling. 



JOHN JANKIN'S SERMON. 

'HE minister said last night, says he, 

" Don't be afraid of givin', 
If your life ain't nothin' to other folks, 

Why, what's the use of livin'?" 
And that's what I say to my wife, says I, 

"There's Brown, that mis'rable sinner, 
He'd sooner a beggar would starve, than give 

A cent towards buyin' a dinner." 

I tell you our minister's prime, he is, 

But I couldn't quite determine, 
When I heard him givin' it right and left, 

Just who was hit by the sermon. 
Of course, there could be no mistake, 

When he talked of long-winded prayin', 
For Peters and Johnson they sat and scowled 

At every word he was sayin'. 

And the minister he went on to say, 

"There's various kinds of cheatin', 
And religion's as good for every day 

As it is to bring to meetin'. 
T don't think much of a man that gives 

The loud Amens at my preachin', 
And spends his time the followin' week 

In cheatin' and overreachin'." 



3 88 THE CHURCH LIFE. 



I guess that dose was bitter 

For a man like Jones to swaller ; 
But I noticed he didn't open his mouth, 

Not once, after that, to holler. 
Hurrah ! says I, for the minister — 

Of course, I said it quiet — 
Give us some more of this open talk; 

It's very refreshin' diet. 

The minister hit 'em every time ; 

And when he spoke of fashion, 
And a-riggin' out in bows and things, 

As woman's rulin' passion, 
And a-comin' to church to see the styles, 

I couldn't help a-winkin' 
And a-nudgin' my wife, and, says I, "That's you, 

And I guess it sot her thinkin'. 

Says I to myself, that sermon's pat ; 

But man is a queer creation ; 
And I'm much afraid that most o' the folks 

Wouldn't take the application. 
Now, if he had said a word about 

My personal mode o' sinnin', 
I'd have gone to work to right myself, 

And not set there a-grinnin'. 

Just then the minister says, says he, 

" And now I've come to the fellers 
Who've lost this shower by usin' their friends 

As a sort o' moral umbrellers. 
Go home," says he, "and find your faults, 

Instead of huntin' your brother's ; 
Go home," he says, "and wear the coats 

You've tried to lit on others." 

My wife, she nudged, and Brown he winked, 

And there was lots of smilin', 
And lots o' lookin' at our pew ; 

It sot my blood a-bilin'. 



THE CHURCH LIFE. 389 



Says I to myself, our minister 

Is gettin' a little bitter ; 
I'll tell him when meetin's out that I 

Ain't at all that kind of a critter. 



AGGRESSIVE CHRISTIANITY. 

OMY Christian friends, this is no time for inertia, when all the forces of 
darkness seem to be in full blast, when steam printing presses are 
publishing infidel tracts, when express railroad trains are carrying 
messengers of sin, when fast clippers are laden with opium and rum, when 
the night air of our cities is polluted with the laughter that breaks up from 
the ten thousand saloons of dissipation and abandonment ! 

The fires of the second death are already kindled in the cheeks of 
some who only a little while ago were incorrupt. Oh, never since the curse 
fell upon the earth has there been a time when it was such an unwise, such 
a cruel, such an awful thing for the Church to sleep ! The great audiences 
are not gathered in the Christian temples ; the great audiences are gathered 
in temples of sin — tears of unutterable woe, their baptism; the blood of 
crushed hearts, the awful wine of their sacrament; blasphemies, their 
litany; and the groans of the lost world, the organ-dirge of their worship. 

HUGGING THEIR CHRISTIAN GRACES. 

You need to be aggressive Christians, and not like persons who spend 
their lives in hugging their Christian graces, and wondering why they do 
not make any progress. How much robustness of health would a man have 
if he hid himself in a dark closet? A great deal of the piety of the day is 
too exclusive. It hides itself. It needs more of fresh air, more out-door exer- 
cise. There are many Christians who are giving their entire life to self- 
examination. They are feeling their pulses to see what is the condition of 
their spiritual health. How long would a man have robust physical health 
if he kept all the days, and weeks, and months, and years of his life feeling 
his pulse, instead of going out into earnest, active,- every-day work ? 

PULLING APART THEIR CHRISTIAN EXPERIENCES. 

I have been among the wonderful and bewitching cactus growths of 
North Carolina, where I never was more bewildered with the beauty of 
flowers. Yet, when I would take up one of these cactuses and pull the 
leaves apart, the beauty was all gone. You could hardly tell that it had 
been a flower. And there are a great many Christian people in this day 
just pulling apart their own Christian experiences to see what there is in 



39° 



THE CHURCH LIFE. 



them, and there is nothing left of them. This style of self-examination is a 
damage instead of an advantage to their Christian character. 

I remember, when I was a boy, I used to have a small piece in the 
garden that I called my own, and I planted corn there, and every few days 
I would pull it up to see how fast it was growing. Now, there are a great 
many Christian people in this day whose self-examination merely amounts 
to the pulling up of that which they only yesterday or the day before 
planted. O my friends, if you want to have a stalwart Christian character, 
plant it right out of doors in the great field of Christian usefulness, and 
though storms may come upon it, and though the hot sun of trial may try 
to consume it, it will thrive until it becomes a great tree, in which the fowls 
of heaven may have a habitation. I have no patience with these flower- 
pot Christians. 

They keep themselves under shelter, and all their Christian experi- 
ence in a small and exclusive circle, when they ought to plant it in the 
great garden of the Lord, so that the whole atmosphere would be aromatic 
with their Christian piety. The century plant is wonderfully suggestive 
and wonderfully beautiful; but I never look at it without thinking of its 
parsimony. It lets whole generations go by before it puts forth one 
blossom ; so I have really more heartfelt admiration when I see the dewy 
tears in the blue eyes of the violets, for they come every spring. My 
Christian friends, time is going by so rapidly that we cannot afford to be 
idle. — Talmage. 



APPEAL TO A SEXTON. 

A APELE FOR ARE: 2 THE SEXTANT OF THE OLD BRICK MEETIN'OUSE. 



o 



Sextant of the meetin'ouse, which sweeps 

And dusts, or is supposed to ! and makes, fires 

And lites the gass, and sometimes leaves a scru loose, 

In which case it smels orful— wus nor lam-pile : 

And wrings the bel, and toles it wen men dyes, 

To the grief of surviven pardners ; & sweeps paths ; 

And for these services gits $100 per annum, 

Wich them that thinks deer, let them tri it ; 

Getin up before star-lite in all wethers, and 

Kindlin' fires when the wether is as cold 

As Nero, and like as not green wood for kindlin's : 

I wouldn't be hired to do it for no some. 



THE CHURCH LIFE. 39 r 



But O, Sextant ! there are 1 kermoddity 

Worth more than gold, which doan't cost nothink — 

Worth more than anythink except the sole of Mann ; — 

I meen pewer are, Sextant ; I meen pewer are ! 

O, it is plenty out o' doors, so plenty it doan't no 

Whot on airth to do with itself, but flies about 

Scatterin' leaves and blowin' off men's hatts ; 

In short, it's jest "as free as are" out-dores. 

But O, Sextant, in our cherch it's as scarce as piety, 

Scarce as bankbills when ajunts beg- for mishins, 

Wich sum say is purty often ('tain't nothin' to mee ; 

Wot I give aint nothin' to nobody ; but O, Sextant, 

U shet 500 men, wimin & children, 

Speshaly the latter, up in a tite place. 

Sum has bad breths, none ain't 2 sweet, 

Sum is fevery, sum is scroflous, sum has bad teeth, 

An some haint none & some aint over clean : 

But 1 of em brethes in and out, and out and in. 

Say 50 times a minit, or 1 million & a half breths an our. 

Now how long will a cherch ful of are last at that rate ? 

I ask you. Say 1 5 minits, and then wots to be did ? 

Why then they mus brethe it all over agin. 

And then they mus brethe it all over agin, 

And then agin, & so on till each has took it down 

At least ten times, & let it up agin. And wots more, 

The same individdible doan't have the privilege 

Of breathin' his own are and no one's else; 

Each one must take whatever comes to him. 

O, Sextant, doan't you know our lunks is bellussess, 

To bio' the fier of life and keep it from 

Going out; & how can bellussess bio without wind? 

And ain't wind ARE? I put it to your conshens. 

Are is same to us as milk to babies, 

Or water is to fish, or pendulum to clox, 

Or roots & airbs unto an injun Doctor, 

Or little pills unto an omepath, 

Or boys to girls. Are is for us to breethe ; 

Wot signifies who preeches if I can't breeth? 

Wots Pol, wots Polus to sinners who are ded, 

Ded for want of breth ? Why, Sextant, when we dye, 

It's only coz we can't breethe no more — that's all. 



392 THE CHURCH LIFE 



And now, O Sextant, let me beg of you 

2 let a little are inter our cherch, 

(Pewer are is serting propper for the pews,) 

And do it week days, and on Sundays too. 

It aint much truble — only make a hoal, 

And all the are will cum of itself. 

It luves to cum in were it can get warm. 

And O how it will rouse the peple up, 

And spirit up the preecher, and stop gapes 

And yauns & fijjitts, as effectual 

As wind on the dry Boans the Profit talks 

Of. — By A Gasper. 



ENCOURAGEMENT, 

IF you are not able to go and invite the people, you can give a word of 
cheer to others, and wish them Godspeed. Many a time when I have 
come down from the pulpit, some old man, trembling on the very verge of 
another world, living perhaps on borrowed time, has caught hold of my 
hand, and in a quavering voice said, "God bless you!" How the 
words have cheered and helped me. Many of you can speak a word of 
encouragement to the younger friends, if you are too feeble to work 
yourselves. 

Then again, you can pray that God will bless the words that are 
spoken and the efforts that are made. It is very easy to preach when 
others are all the time praying for you and sympathizing with you, instead 
of criticising and finding fault. 

CHILD RESCUED FROM THE FIRE. 

You have heard the story, I suppose, of the child who was rescued 
from the fire that was raging in a house away up in the fourth story. The 
child came to the window, and as the flames were shooting up higher and 
higher it cried out for help. A fireman started up the laddes of the fire- 
escape to rescue the child from its dangerous position. The wind swept 
the flames near him, and it was getting so hot that he wavered, and it 
looked as if he would have to return without the child. Thousands looked 
.on, and their hearts quaked at the thought of the child having to perish in 
the fire, as it must do if the fireman did not reach it. Some one in the 
crowd cried, "Give him a cheer!" Cheer after cheer went up, and as the 
man heard them he gathered fresh courage. Up he went into the midst of 
the smoke and the fire, and brought down the child in safety. If you 



THE CHURCH LIFE. 393 

can not go and rescue the perishing yourselves, you can at least pray for 
those who do, and cheer them on. If you do, the Lord will bless the 
effort. 

"They helped every one his neighbor; and every one said to his 
brother, ' Be of good courage.' " 

' We are living, we are dwelling 

In a grand and awful time, 
In an age on ages telling — 
To be living is sublime. 

Oh, let all the soul within you 

For the truth's sake go abroad ! 
Strike ! let every nerve and sinew 

Tell on ages— tell for God!" 

— Moody. 



THE BLESSEDNESS OF GIVING. 

SEE that little fountain yonder — away yonder in the distant mountain, 
shining like a thread of silver through the thick copse, and sparkling 
like a diamond in its healthful activity. It is hurrying on with tinkling 
feet to bear its tribute to the river. See, it passes a stagnant pool, and the 
Pool hails it: "Whither away, Master Streamlet?" "lam going to the 
river to bear this cup of water God has given me." "Ah, you are very 
foolish for that ; you'll need it before the summer's over. It has been a 
backward spring, and we shall have a hot summer to pay for it ; you will 
dry up then." " Well," said the Streamlet, " if I am to die so soon, I had 
better work while the day lasts. If I am likely to lose this treasure from 
the heat, I had better do good with it while I have it." So on it went, 
blessing and rejoicing in its course. The pool smiled complacently at its 
own superior foresight, and husbanded all its resources, letting not a drop 
steal away. 

THE BIRDS SIPPED THE SILVER TIDE. 

Soon the midsummer heat came down, and it fell upon the little 
stream. But the trees crowded to its brink and threw out their sheltering 
branches over it in the day of adversity, for it brought refreshment and life 
to them, and the sun peeped through the branches and smiled complacently 
upon its dimpled face, and seemed to say: "It's not in my heart to harm 
you;" and the birds sipped the silver tide, and sung its praises; the flowers 
breathed their perfume upon its bosom; the husbandman's eye always 



394 THE CHURCH LIFE. 

sparkled with joy as he looked upon the line of verdant beauty that marked 
its course through his fields and meadows ; and so on it went, blessing- and 
blessed of all ! 

And where was the prudent pool ? Alas ! in its glorious inactivity it 
grew sickly and pestilential. The beasts of the field put their lips to it, but 
turned away without drinking; the breeze stopped and kissed it by mistake, 
but shrunk chilled away. It caught the malaria in the contact, and carried 
the ague through the region ; the inhabitants caught it and had to move away ; 
and at last the very frogs cast their venom upon the pool and deserted it ? 
and heaven, in mercy to man, smote it with a hotter breath and dried it up ! 

But did not the little stream exhaust itself? Oh, no! God saw to 
that. It emptied its full cup into the river, and the river bore it on to the 
sea, and the sea welcomed it, and the sun smiled upon the sea, and the sea 
sent up its incense to greet the sun, and the clouds caught in their capacious 
bosoms the incense from the sea, and the winds, like waiting steeds, caught 
the chariots of the clouds and bore them away — away to the very mountain 
that gave the little fountain birth, and there they tipped the brimming cup 
and poured the grateful baptism down; and so God saw to it that the little 
fountain, though it gave so fully and so freely, never ran dry. And if God 
so blessed the fountain, will He not bless you, my friends, if, as ye have 
freely received, ye also freely give ? Be assured He will. 



THE CHURCHES MUST STAY AMONG THE POOR. 

THE drift of the city churches is always toward the cleaner, less packed, 
and less commercial parts of the city. When a strong church moves 
away, a weak one is left behind. It seems to need but little care. A 
scanty allowance is left for it. So much is needed for the new church 
elsewhere, and it must be so fine that the old church soon becomes a mere 
skeleton. Little the people think that for the power to build the new, the 
obligation is due to the old ! America is the only country on earth where 
the city church possesses the monstrosity of a frequent, flitting day. In 
Rome it is never thought of, that, because St. Peter's has to be reached by 
a bridge, and to reach the bridge one must go through dark and filthy 
streets, therefore St. Peter's must not be thought of as a sanctuary. The 
mere fact that it is St. Peter's makes it an attraction. In Vienna, St. 
Stephen's is in the midst of darker and more repellant streets ; yet it is 
never urged against it that it is too far down town, and not in the West 
End. In Berlin and in Paris the same rule applies. St. Paul's, in London, 
is surrounded still, as centuries ago, by small shops, while the city stages 



THE CHURCH LIFE. 395 



and cabs run around it, and make a perpetual din on every side. Yet 
people go from palace and noble residence far away to get to that beautiful 
temple. St. Margaret's and Westminster are by no means in the midst of 
fine residences. Yet all these places are visited by the people of every 
class. Why should we cry that the churches must follow the people ? Who 
are the people ? They do not consist merely of a few. They are also to be 
found in cellars and garrets, and in the midst of the busiest marts of our 
cities. Wherever the people are, in our close-packed cities or in our far 
Western regions, let the plain chapel exist for them. Let no score or 
hundred be forgotten, but let God's house be built for all alike, and let the 
poor man feel that this is his home, and his children's home, and the 
stranger's home. — /. F. Hurst. 



" THE PENNY YE MEANT TO GI'E." 

r HERE'S a funny tale of a stingy man, 
Who was none too good, but might have been worse, 
Who went to his church on a Sunday night, 
And carried along his well-filled purse. 

When the sexton came with his begging plate, 
The church was but dim with the candle's light ; 

The stingy man fumbled all through his purse, 
And chose a coin by touch, and not sight. 

It's an odd thing, now, that guineas should be 
So like unto pennies in shape and size. 
" I'll give a penny," the stingy man said : 

" The poor must not gifts of pennies despise." 

The penny fell down with a clatter and ring ! 
And back in his seat leaned the stingy man. 
" The world is so full of the poor," he thought : 
. " I can't help them all — I give what I can." 

Ha, ha ! how the sexton smiled, to be sure, 
To see the gold guinea fall into his plate ! 

Ha, ha ! how the stingy man's heart was wrung, 
Perceiving his blunder, but just too late ! 



^4 



396 THE CHURCH LIFE. 

" No matter," he said: " in the Lord's account 
That guinea of gold is set down to me. 
They lend to him who give to the poor ; 
It will not so bad an investment be." 

" Na, na mon," the chuckling sexton cried out : 
" The Lord is na cheated — He kens thee well 
He knew it was only by accident 
That out o' thy fingers the guinea fell ! 

He keeps an account, na doubt, for the puir : 
But in that account, He'll set down to thee 

Na mair o' that golden guinea, my mon, 

Than the one bare penny ye meant to gi'e ! " 

There's a comfort, too, in the little tale — 
A serious side as well as a joke ; 

A comfort for all the generous poor, 
In the comical words the sexton spoke ; 

A comfort to think that the good Lord knows 
How generous we really desire to be, 

And will give us credit in his account 
For all the pennies we long " to gi'e ! " 



ON TOLERATION. 

ANY zeal is proper for religion, but the zeal of the sword and the zeal of 
anger : this is the bitterness of zeal, and it is a certain temptation to 
every man against his duty ; for if the sword turns preacher, and dictates 
propositions by empire instead of arguments, and engraves them in men's 
hearts with a poniard, that it shall be death to believe what I innocently 
and ignorantly am persuaded of, it must needs be unsafe to try the spirits, 
to try all things, to make inquiry; and yet, without this liberty, no man 
can justify himself before God or man, nor confidently say that his religion 
is best. This is inordination of zeal ; for Christ, by reproving St. Peter 
drawing his sword even in the cause of Christ, for his sacred and yet 
injured person, teaches us not to use the sword, though in the cause of 
God, or for God himself. 







LSerfe. fop Sljurolj. 



THE CHURCH LIFE. 399 

When Abraham sat at his tent door, according to his custom, waiting 
to entertain strangers, he espied an old man, stooping and leaning on his 
staff, weary with age and travail, coming toward him, who was a hundred 
years of age. He received him kindly, washed his feet, provided supper, 
caused him to sit down ; but observing that the old man ate, and prayed 
not, nor begged for a blessing on his meat, he asked him why he did not 
worship the God of Heaven. The old man told him that he worshipped 
the fire only, and acknowledged no other God. At which answer Abraham 
grew so zealously angry, that he thrust the old man out of his tent, and 
exposed him to all the evils of the night, and an unguarded condition. When 
the old man was gone, God called to Abraham, and asked him where the 
stranger was. He replied, " I thrust him away because he did not worship 
thee." God answered him-, " I have suffered him these hundred years, 
although he dishonored me ; and couldst not thou endure him one night?'" 
— Jeremy Taylor. 



PULPIT ORATORY. 

THE daily work of the pulpit is not to convince the judgment, but to 
touch the heart. We all know it is our duty to love our Creator and 
serve him, but the aim is to make mankind do it. It is not enough to 
convert our belief to Christianity, but to turn our souls towards God. 
Therefore the preacher will find in the armory of the feelings the weapons 
with which to defend against sin, assail Satan and achieve the victory, the 
fruits of which shall never perish. And oh, how infinite the variety, how 
inexhaustible the resources, of this armory ! how irresistible the weapons, 
when grasped by the hand of a master ! 

THE PREACHER'S POWER. 

Every passion of the human heart, every sentiment that sways the 
soul, every action or character in the vast realms of history or the boundless 
world about us, the preacher can summon obedient to his command. He 
can paint in vivid colors the last hours of the just man— all his temptations 
and trials over, he smilingly sinks to sleep, to awake amid the glories of 
the eternal morn. He can tell the pampered man of ill-gotten gold that 
the hour draws nigh when he shall feel the cold and clammy hand of 
Death, and that all his wealth can not buy him from the worm. He can 
drag before his hearers the slimy hypocrite, tear from his heart his secret 
crimes and expose his damnable villainy to the gaze of all. He can appeal 
to the purest promptings of the Christian heart, the love of God and 
hatred of sin. He can depict the stupendous and appalling truth that the 



4 oo THE CHURCH LIFE. 



Saviour from the highest throne in heaven descended, and here, on earth, 
assumed the form of fallen man, and for us died on the cross like a male- 
factor. He can startle and awe-strike his hearers as he descants on the 
terrible justice of the Almighty in hurling from heaven Lucifer and his 
apostate legions ; in letting loose the mighty waters until they swallowed 
the wide earth and every living thing, burying the highest mountains in 
the universal deluge, shadows of the coming of that awful day for which 
all other days are made. He can roll back the sky as a scroll, and, ascending 
to heaven, picture its ecstatic joys, where seraphic voices tuned in celestial 
harmony sing their canticles of praise. He can dive into the depths of 
hell and describe the howling and the gnashing of teeth of the damned, 
chained in its flaming caverns, ever burning yet never consumed. He can, 
in a word, in imagination, assume the sublime attributes of Deity, and, as 
the Supreme Mercy and Goodness, make tears of contrition start and 
stream from every eye; or armed with the dread prerogatives of the 
Inexorable Judge, with the lightning of his wrath strike unrepentant souls 
until sinners sink on their knees and quail as Felix quailed before St. Paul. 
— Daniel Dougherty. 



THE DESTITUTE CHILDREN. 

WHAT is to become of the destitute children of our cities ? We must 
either act on them, or they will act on us. We will either 
Christianize them, or they will heathenize us. It is a question not more for 
the Christian than for the philanthropist and the statesman. Oh, if we could 
have all these suffering little ones gathered together, what a scene of hunger 
and wretchedness and rags and sin and trouble and darkness ! If we could 
see those little feet on the broad road to death, which through Christian 
charity ought to be pressing the narrow path of life ; if we could hear those 
voices in blasphemy, which ought to be singing the praises of God ; if we 
could see those little hearts, which at that age ought not to be soiled with 
one unclean thought, becoming the sewers for every abomination ; if we 
could see those 

SUFFERING LITTLE ONES 

sacrificed on the altar of every iniquitous passion, and baptized with fire 
from the lava of the pit, we would recoil, crying out, " Avaunt, thou dream 
of hell!" 

They are not always going to be children. They are coming up to 
be the men and women of this country. That spark of iniquity that might 
now be put out with one drop of the water of life, will become the 






THE CHURCH LIFE. 401 

conflagration of every thing green that God planted in the soul, and that 
which was intended to be a temple of the Holy Ghost will be a scarred 
and blasted ruin, every light quenched, and every altar in the dust. 

Fashionable fastidiousness meets them, and, gathering up its robes, 
says, "They are so dirty I can not bear to have them touch me." 

But genuine Christian charity stretches forth its arms and says, 
" Come in your rags and desolation ; the flood of Jesus Christ cleanseth 
from all sin !" And while I believe in all good worldly reforms ; I also believe 
that one drop of the blood of Christ will cure more of the woes of the world 
than an oceanful of human quackery. 

REGULAR CHURCH WORK. 

Some have said : " Let the Church through its regular services do 
this work." We reply there are a great multitude of the destitute who do 
not come under the ministrations of the pulpit. " Oh," said a poor boy to a 
good man who reproved him for wickedness, " it is very easy for you, mister, 
to be good, but I tell you we poor chaps hain't got no chance. My father 
died when I was very small, and I have to pick rags for a living ; and when 
I can't get the rags T has to steal. You see we poor chaps hain't got no 
chance." Call up that child, and push back his hair. Shall this face be ever 
brightening up with benevolence, or scarred and pinched and blasted with 
low excesses ; shall those eyes become more and more intelligent, or shall 
they acquire the dishonest glance and the servile downcast ? Put your 
hand on that child's heart. Shall it always beat with noble impulses, or 
will it be a thief's heart, a coward's heart, a traitor's heart ? 

No ! they shall be gathered in. Sabbath-schools will do their work, and 
they who are now scoffed at as ragamuffins will pass on to be men of might, 
and the men of God in future years, though now their knees are out, and 
their elbows out, and their toes out. 



NEVER SPEAK ILL OF ANYONE. 

NEVER speak ill of any man : if of a good man, it is impiety ; if of a 
bad man, give him your prayers. 

Let your discourse of others be fair ; speak ill of nobody. To do it 
in his absence, is the property of a coward who stabs a man behind his back; 
if to his face, you add an affront to the scandal. He that praises, bestows 
a favor; but he that detracts, commits a robbery in taking from another what 
is justly his. Every man thinks he deserves better than indeed he doth ; 
therefore you can not oblige mankind more than to speak well ; man is the 
greatest humorist and flatterer of himself in the world. 



4 02 THE CHURCH LIFE. 



" I MUST KEEP MY PEOPLE." 

THIS brief article is for young ministers directly; indirectly, it is for 
elders, trustees, and the critical members. 

A. B. is going to leave. The church people have not called on the 
family, as they should have done. Advise A. B. and family to go into some 
department of church-work and to do it thoroughly. Acquaintance thus 
grows up naturally between congenial people. Do not go any further. You 
will gain nothing by it. Perhaps the church people know A. B. better than 
you do. And if A. B. loses all spiritual gain from your ministrations 
because the people have not called, their permanent power to do him good 
is doubtful. 

MORE FEELING IN THE MEETINGS. 

C. D. is thinking of giving up his seat. He likes more feeling in the 
meetings. He is thinking of going to the Methodists. Advise him to go. 
Tell him you will feel pleasure in introducing him. If you know the 
Methodist minister, ask him to call on your friend. The edification of the 
souls of the people is the main thing — more important than the length of 
your roll. There are diversities of gifts and of spiritual affinities. 

E. F. wants better music. Do the best you can to have the praises 
of God decent and orderly. Do not make any changes for E. F. What 
would please him might vex C. D., or he might, after getting the change, 
next want shorter sermons, or a little less of " the terrors of the law." 
Tell him you have to consult the conscience of the people as to the worship 
of God. That is the main thing. If there is another church where he 
feels he can more truly worship God, it is his duty to go. You are not 
there to accommodate a congregation to E. F. You are to edify that part 
of the body of Christ. 

MODERNIZED SERVICE. 

G. H. wants the service modernized. He heard, the last time he was 
in Chicago, most splendid "responsive reading," and "the solos were grand." 
Do all you can to make the service reverent, spiritual, edifying to your people. 
You are not in Chicago, but in your own quite different place. You could 
not easily reproduce Chicago in it. It may be easier and less troublesome 
all around for G. H. to go and stay in Chicago than for you to get up a new 
" Directory of Worship " to retain him. 

I. J. would fain have a little more variety in the preaching. He likes 
a man to "preach to the times." He saw in a New York paper lately that 
a minister was announced to preach on " Honest Gas." Try to make your 
preaching as varied as the Bible. You are to reflect its truths, and in the 
proportions they bear to one another in the Bible. And make your state- 



THE CHURCH LIFE. 403 

ments of truth as clear and fitting- as you can. If I. J. is not satisfied and 
edified, let him try some other spirits. You were not ordained to amuse or 
amaze I. J., but to preach the Word. " Honest gas " is not difficult to get. 
If I. J. needs it, that he may grow in grace, it is his duty to go in search of 
it. Let no man stay him. 

K. L. knows no young people of his own sort in the church. He 
would like them, no doubt. He left the Congregational Church in which 
he had paid marked attention to the senior deacon's daughter. She frowned 
upon him remorselessly. He has not brought his letter. He is waiting to 
see. But you are not a matrimonial agent. You were not set apart to that 
end. A " sociable," to introduce K. L. to the young ladies, might give you 
more trouble than two good sermons, and cost your people more than they 
give to the Home Mission Board, and K. L. might not be suited after all. 

PREACH THE GOSPEL. 

These are specimens. They might easily be multiplied. An experi- 
ence of many years with very diverse " environments " rather confirms the 
impression that losses from causes, such as the above, are no real losses, 
and gains made by accommodation to such are not elements of spiritual 
life or enduring strength. Preach the Word. Visit the people at their 
homes. Give them the Gospel. Give them sympathy. Rely on the Spirit 
of God to bless your work, and by the manifestation of the truth commend 
yourself to every man's conscience in the sight of God. When such 
malcontents do not wish to stay with you, it is better for them to go now, 
than perhaps give you trouble in other ways at a later time. If they want 
fashion, novelty, or an easier way of life than you have to offer, the price 
you would have to pay for them would be excessive. You can " buy gold 
too dear." But often enough they are not gold, but "brass," or such 
"bricks" as simpletons buy from impostors. Said a good man not long 
ago : " I have had people go away for incidental reasons, and it vexed me 
a little at the time : but I can not think of any of them whom I would now 
wish to take back." Others could bear the like testimony. It is worth 
reflecting upon by young ministers, and by their nervous supporters. — 
Dr. John Hall. 



A WRONG SORT OF CHARITY. 

AN African preacher, speaking from the words: "What is a man 
profited, if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul?" 
mentioned among other things that many lost their souls by being too 
charitable! Seeing the congregation astonished beyond measure at his 



4 o 4 THE CHURCH LIFE. 



saying it, he very emphatically repeated it, and then proceeded to explain 
his meaning. "Many people," said he, "attend meeting, and hear the 
sermon; and when it is over they proceed to divide it out among the 
congregation; this part was for that man; that part for that woman; and 
such denunciations were for such persons ; these threats for you sinners— 
and so," continued the shrewd African, "tliey give away the whole sermon t 
and keep none for themselves!' 



USE SHORT WORDS. 

IN teaching, one should be careful to express himself in the shortest words 
that he can command. Short words, as a rule, are clear in their 
meaning, while long ones have a tendency to envelop one's ideas in a fog 
where they can not be plainly discerned. The brief words are the words 
of childhood, and they are the only ones that should be addressed to 
children. They are native to the tongue — the others are laboriously 
acquired. They are curt, energetic and inspiring — the others are smooth, 
pleasant and tranquilizing. In the one sort there is strength — in the other 
polish. If one wants merely to please, long words will do. If he wants to 
arouse, he must use short words, every one of which is like the crack of a 
rifle. By the introduction of long foreign words there is no question but 
what the morals of the nation have been somewhat blunted. When a man 
takes money that does not belong to him, and it is called a "defalcation" 
instead of a theft, the most of the people are at a loss to know "if it is a 
blunder or a crime." So, when a man lies, and he is only charged with 
"prevarication," the offence against truth does not appear of so very great 
a magnitude. There is honesty and safety in plain Anglo-Saxon. For the 
sake of giving the young the right kind of a moral grip, as well as causing 
them accurately to understand the meaning of what is taught, short words 
should almost exclusively be used. 



w 



TABLE PRAYER. 

HY do so many members of the Church eat without thanksgiving? 
Is not table prayer a plain Christian duty ? Is it not easy to do ? 
Can you not say, " God bless our daily bread ?" When you want another 
form, can you not say, " We thank thee for our daily bread, and pray Thee 
bless it to our use ?" Are you a careless Christian, or are you ashamed to 
confess Christ in this way before men ? Perhaps you think this a small 



THE CHURCH LIFE. 405 



matter, but it is not. Our Lord always gave thanks before eating. So did 
the early Christians; so should you and I. It is one mark of a Christian 
family. You need not say you are none the less thankful, for thankfulness 
should make thanksgiving. 



THE HYPOCRITES. 

THERE is a certain class of unbelievers who are forever telling us that 
the reason why they do not become Christians is that there are so 
many hypocrites in the Church. This is the strangest excuse, for it is not a 
reason. Suppose there are hypocrites in the Church, what of it ? They 
won't be in Heaven, but in hell, when the judgment is concluded. And if a 
man refuses Christ, no matter what may be bis reason, he will be in hell, 
and then he and the hypocrites will be together. It is in effect to say, 
" Rather than be a Christian and church-member in which there are some 
hypocrites, with whom I must live in outward fellowship for a few years, I 
will reject Christ, lose my own soul, and live with the hypocrites in hell 
forever." 






LAZY CHRISTIANS. 

THERE are some in every church who are willing to work, and do work. 
You hear of them among the poor and sick ; you find them in the prayer- 
meeting, and see them in all church activities. They are always willing to 
do more than their part. You can rely upon them every time. But many 
professors seem surprised that you should expect any work from them. 
They come into church to enjoy religion, not to help others to be saved, not 
to work. As for visiting the sick, feeding the poor, gathering in destitute 
children, or speaking to the unsaved, they never try it, "have no gifts for 
it," and so pay their money, hear the sermon, enjoy the singing, try to be 
respectable, and call that religious living, without making a personal 
endeavor to do good from one year's end to another. 

It is surprising what easy Christians some men make. A set of 
merchants who can run a bank or mill, and make trade pay, and know how 
to manage corporations, will let a church run down for the want of a little 
religious enterprise, and very likely call upon the women and children to 
help them out. A community of Christian farmers, who know how to 
improve stock and make a farm pay, who, on hard soil, will get a good 
living, and keep their own house neat and trim, will let the house of God 
become shabby, and the Church die out, because as farmers they work, but 



406 THE CHURCH LIFE. 

as Christians they do not work. What our churches and our committees 
most need is not more talent, or more truth, or more money, or more 
opportunities, but downright and upright earnest work. 



LOOK AT THE PREACHER. 

THIRST. — Because he is speaking to you. He speaks to all that are 
present. You do not drop your head or avert your face when a friend 
or any man speaks to you in the house or on the street. Acknowledge by 
looking that you feel that you are spoken to. 

Second. — Because looking at him is a proper return, so far as it goes, 
for his pains to interest you. He puts himself into communication with 
you, and your attentive gaze at him is obedience to his virtual solicitation 
that you be in communication with him. It is simple justice. 

Third. — It is politeness, too. You would call one rude and 
ill-mannered who should avert his face when you attempt to speak to him. 
Politeness in the social circles should go with you into the sanctuary. 



OBJECTORS. 

TWO laborers were trying to place a stone in position on the foundation 
wall of a new building. A crowd was standing around, looking on, 
and each one offering his criticism and counsel freely and loudly, but not one 
lifting so much as a finger to help. "That reminds me of church-work," 
said a passer-by to another. "Why?" "Because," was the reply, "two men 
are doing the work, and twenty are doing the talking !" 
Moral. — Work— or be still. 



THE SENSITIVE MAN. 

THE troublesome man in a church is not only the rudely, unfeelingly 
outspoken one, nor yet the chronic grumbler, the perpetual critic and 
fault-finder, nor yet the church-gossip and mischief-maker, though these are 
all troublesome enough, and equally unworthy of the name of true Christians. 
As bad as any of them is the man who is so morbidly self-conscious, who 
thinks so much of himself, and loves himself so inordinately well, as to apply 
every thoughtless remark, every word and deed that is at all capable of an 
unkind or inappreciative, or uncomplimentary interpretation to himself. He 
is continually being offended, hurt, insulted. And once hurt, whether real 



THE CHURCH LIFE. 407 



or only in imagination, his personal grievance outweighs every other 
consideration. The good of the Church, peace and harmony in the Father's 
family — these are as nothing compared with it. All these must suffer so 
that his own personal grievance may be recognized and avenged. Yet such 
people say they love Christ and love His cause! It certainly is a strange 
way they have of showing it. 



PROGRESS OF CHRISTIANITY. 

A HUNDRED missionary societies are now at work, side by side and 
hand in hand, for the enlightenment of unevangelized races. The 
cordon of their outposts belts the globe. Their stations are found on the 
coast of Greenland and Labrador, where the hardy Danish and Moravian 
missionaries have long toiled for Christ. They have been planted at the 
chief stations of the fur companies through British America. Under the 
auspices of our Home Mission Board, they have reached Alaska. They 
are found among all Indian tribes of our own country. They have passed 
into Mexico, where blessed successes have been gained. All around the 
coasts of the West Indian Islands are the stations of a dozen missionary 
societies. They are found in Honduras, at Belizes, in Guatemala, in the 
United States of Colombia, in Peru, Chili, the Argentine Republic, Brazil, 
and British Guiana. Even among the Fuegians and on the Falkland 
Islands, the standard of the cross has been raised. 

MISSIONARY STATIONS. 

Across the Atlantic the missionary stations of American and 
European societies very nearly encompass the Continent of Africa from 
Sierra Leone to Gaboon, Benguela, Cape Town, and thence to Natal, 
Zanzibar, Mombas, Abyssinia and Egypt. The vedettes of this great united 
army have reached the African lake region, the banks of the Zambezi and 
the Niger, and the great basin of the Congo. They are at work in 
European and Asiatic Turkey, and in Syria, Palestine and Persia. India 
has long been a chief battle-ground, where their allied forces are combating 
all those great hoary systems which have gained the greatest power over 
the human race. They are found in Ceylon, Burma, Siam, Laos, at 
Singapore, on the Straits of Malacca, and in Borneo, Celebes and various 
islands of the Indian Archipelago. In Madagascar, Australia, Tasmania, 
New Zealand, the Hawaiian Islands, Fiji, and many groups of Polynesia, 
they have wrought a Christian civilization ; and even in savage New 
Guinea, mission stations arc now hailed as proofs of humanity and safety. 



THE CH UR CH L IFE . 



All along the coast of China and up its chief rivers, the beacons of 
the truth are shining. Japan has been born in a day, and the first tints of 
dawn are falling upon Corea. Nearly all the great languages of the world 
have been made the vehicles of eternal truth. Discovery, diplomacy and 
commerce have been subsidized by the Christian faith. This great work, 
with its modern organizations and appliances, has moved forward for a 
century with no abatement, but always with deepening power and extending 
influence. Its history is at the same time its prophecy. It is but the 
harbinger, the dawn merely, which promises the full-orbed day. — Foreign 
Missio?iary. 



FOREIGN MISSIONS PAY. 

THEY pay financially, as the old wheelwright found who gave one dollar 
to. missions in the Sandwich Islands, feeling as if he had dropped it 
into the sea, but was amazed to receive, not long after, an order for twenty 
carts at ninety dollars each. They pay scientifically, as the sixty languages 
reduced by missionaries to grammatical form attest. They pay 
restoratively, as the Papuan and the Maori of the day bear witness ; and 
Africaner ; and Vara, a Sandwich Islander, who, born a heathen, on his 
death-bed said to friends about him, that his canoe was ready, that its sail 
was spread, and his pilot on board ; and a certain Brahman, who, when 
converted, besides being invincible in argument, possessed such eloquence 
as to bring tears to Brahman eyes — a feat as difficult as wringing moisture 
from the pebbles of the brook. That they have restored society and whole 
nations, let the disappearance of Suttee, of Juggernaut, and of drowning 
in the Ganges declare; and Madagascar and Polynesia — that submerged 
continent — and Fiji, with her eight hundred churches, swell the testimony. 
If, after reflecting on facts like these, a preacher should have no zeal for 
missions, what a " narrow-chested, spindle-legged " character he must be ! — 
Dr. Scudder. 



WHO'S TO BLAME? 

IT is not the Sabbath-school which keeps children and young people from 
attending church. The fault is at home, where there is often a lack of 
decision on the subject of church attendance. There are some people who 
rise on Sabbath morning too late to get both themselves and their children 
ready for church. Parents who are in earnest about it will have little 
trouble in enforcing the presence of their children at public worship. 



THE CHURCH LIFE. 409 



REVIVALS. 

SOME revivals resemble underground rivers, running unknown to every- 
body till they discover themselves. Most revivals of God's work I 
have thought begin in this secret way. — J. Canghey. 

Constant, revival, no autumn, no winter, but perpetual summer, is 
what the Church needs, and what must precede the millennium. 

A revival is the spring of religion, the renovation of life and gladness. 
It is the season in which young converts burst into existence and beautiful 
activity. The Church resumes her toil and labor and care with freshness 
and energy. The air all around is balmy, and diffusing the sweetest odors. 
The whole landscape teems with living promises of abundant harvest of 
righteousness and peace. It is the jubilee of holiness. A genial warmth 
pervades, and refreshes the whole Church. Showers of "vernal light and 
joy" descend gently and copiously. Delightful influences are wafted by 
.every breeze. Where the dead leaves of winter still linger, the primrose 
and the daisy spring up in modest loveliness. Trees, long barren, put forth 
the buds of beauty and power. The whole valley is crowned with fragrant 
and varied blossoms. Forms of beauty bloom on every side, and Zion is 
the joy of the whole earth. If the spirit that renews the face of the earth 
is a spirit of beauty in the elegance of the germs, the tints of the buds, the 
verdure of the foliage, the splendor of the blossoms, and the witching 
glories of the matured fruits of Nature, "how great is His beauty" when 
acting out His lovely and holy perfections in the revivals of religion.— 
Dr. Jenkyn. 

MEN ARE LYING LIKE LOGS 

far in the woods of Maine, in the winter months, there are a hundred 
camps ; and scores of axemen are busy cutting down the huge trees, and 
measuring the logs, and sorting them, and throwing them into deep gullies, 
where they will lie dry and undisturbed until the snows melt, and the spring 
floods come ; and then they will be borne out of the ravines into the ever 
deep-flowing river, and thence to some Penobscot or Kennebec ; and there 
collected together, and bound in mighty rafts, they will float down to the 
tide-waters. So men are lying, dry logs along empty channels, hoping that 
some revival freshet will come, and sweep them down to the deep waters of 
piety. — Beecher. 



Communion with God is what makes service sweet and easy, pros- 
perous, and successful. 



4 io THE CHURCH LIFE. 

THINGS UNLIKE A CHRISTIAN. 

IT is not like a Christian to come into church on the Lord's Day, after the 
-worship has commenced, and sit down as if you had nothing- to be 
ashamed of. 

It is not like a Christian to stare about during the service, and to be 
busied in pulling on your gloves and arranging your dress, whilst the last 
acts of worship are being offered. 

It is not like a Christian to wander from your own church and to 
choose to meet with a strange congregation, when the members of your own 
church are assembled for worship. 

It is not like a Christian to absent yourself from the prayer-meeting, 
when a little sacrifice would enable you to attend. 

It is not like a Christian to take only two sittings in a pew because 
you occupy only two, whilst you can afford to pay for four. 

It is not like a Christian to subscribe only one dollar for missions, 
while you can afford to subscribe ten. 

It is not like a Christian to gauge the amount of contributions by what 
others give, and to overlook the rule which requires us to give as God hath 
prospered us. 

It is very unlike a Christian to absent yourself from church when a 
special collection is to be taken. 

It is very unlike a Christian to go out of your church when the Supper 
of the Lord is to be observed. 

It is not like a Christian to leave others to teach the young, and visit 
and instruct the ignorant adults, when you have an opportunity of joining 
in the good work. 

It is not like a Christian to give labor and substance to outside 
societies when your own church stands in need of your help. 

It is not like a Christian to deem anything unimportant which Christ 
has commanded, or to treat with indifference matters relating to church 
government, because they are essential to salvation. 

It is not like a Christian to be a self-seeker, or to overlook the rule 
that whether we eat or drink, or whatsoever we do, we are to do all for the 
glory of God. 

THE DEACON'S PRAYER. 

IN the regular evening meeting 
That the church holds every week, 
One night a listening angel sat 
To hear them pray and speak. 




sfb* &< 



THE CHURCH LIFE. 413 

It puzzled the soul of the angel 

Why some to that gathering came, 
But sick and sinful hearts he saw, 

With grief and guilt aflame. 

They were silent, but said to the angel, 

"Our lives have need of Him!" 
While doubt, with dull, vague, throbbing pain, 

Stirred through their spirits dim. 

You could see 'twas the regular meeting, 

And the regular seats were filled, 
And all knew who would pray and talk, 

Though any one might that willed. 

From his place in front, near the pulpit, 

In his long-accustomed way, 
When the Book was read, and the hymn was sung, 

The Deacon arose to pray. 

First came the long preamble — 

If Peter had opened so, 
He had been, ere the Lord his prayer had heard, 

Full fifty fathom below. 

Then a volume of information 

Poured forth, as if to the Lord, 
Concerning His ways and attributes, 

And the things by Him abhorred. 

But not in the list of the latter 

Was mentioned the mocking breath 
Of the hypocrite prayer that is not a prayer, 

And the make-believe life in death. 

Then he prayed for the church ; and the pastor ; 

And that "souls might be his hire" — 
Whatever his stipend otherwise — 

And the Sunday-school; and the choir; 



414 THE CHURCH LIFE. 



And the swarming- hordes of India ; 

And the perishing, vile Chinese ; 
And the millions who bow to the Pope of Rome; 

And the pagan churches of Greece ; 

And the outcast remnants of Judah, 
Of whose guilt he had much to tell — 

He prayed, or he told the Lord he prayed, • 
For everything out of hell. 

Now, if all of that burden had really 

Been weighing upon his soul, 
'Twould have sunk him through to the China side, 

And raised a hill over the hole. 



'Twas the regular evening meeting, 
And the regular prayers were made, 

But the listening angel told the Lord 
That only the silent prayed. 



■W. O. Stoddard. 



RIGHT MAKES MIGHT. 

THE good dwells in the kingdom of right; the bad sits on the throne 
of might. Right is a loyal subject; might is a royal tyrant. Right is 
the foundation of the river of peace; might is the mother of war and 
abominations. Right is the evangel of God that proclaims the "acceptable 
year of the Lord;" might is the scourge of the world that riots in carnage, 
groans and blood. Right is the arm of freedom made bare and beautiful 
in the eyes of all the good in Heaven and earth ; might is the sword of 
power unsheathed in the hand of oppression. Right gains Its victories by 
peace ; might conquers only by war. Right strengthens its arms by the 
increase of all its conquered ; might weakens its force by every victory, as a 
part of its power must stand guard over its new-made subjects. 

Right rules by invitation; might by compulsion. Right is from 
above; might from below. Right is unselfish; might knows nothing but 
self. Right is for the whole; might is for one. Right is unassuming; 
might is as pompous as a king. Right is instructive ; might is dictatorial. 
Right reasons like a philosopher, and prepares the ground on which.it 



THE CHURCH LIFE. 415 

sows; might stalks on like madness, reckless of everything but the end 
sought. Right is a lamb, cropping buds and flowers to make itself more 
beautiful ; might is a tiger prowling in search of prey. Right is a moralist 
resting in principle ; might is a wordling seeking for pleasure. 



TRUE GLORY. 






WHATEVER may be the temporary applause of men, or the expres- 
sions of public opinion, it may be asserted, without fear of 
contradiction, that no true and permanent Fame can be founded, except in 
labors which promote the happiness of mankind. There are not a few who 
will join with Milton in his admirable judgment of martial renown : 

" They err who count it glorious to subdue 
By conquest far and wide, to overrun 
Large countries, and in field great battles win, 
Great cities by assault. What do these worthies 
But rob, and spoil, burn, slaughter, and enslave 
Peaceable nations, neighboring or remote, 
Made captive, yet deserving freedom more 
Than those, their conquerors who leave behind 
Nothing but ruin, wheresoe'er they rove, 
And all the flourishing works of peace destroy?" 

Well does the poet give the palm to moral excellence ! But it is 
from the lips of a successful soldier, cradled in war, the very pink of the 
false heroism of battle, that we are taught to appreciate the literary Fame, 
which, though less elevated than that derived from disinterested acts of 
beneficence, is truer and more permanent far than any bloody Glory. I 
allude to Wolfe, the conqueror of Quebec, who has attracted, perhaps, a 
larger share of romantic interest than any of the gallant generals in English 
history. We behold him, yet young in years, at the head of an adventurous 
expedition, destined to prostrate the French empire in Canada — guiding 
and encouraging the firmness of his troops in unaccustomed difficulties — 
awakening their personal attachment by his kindly suavity, and their ardor 
by his own example — climbing the precipitous steeps which conduct to the 
heights of the strongest fortress on the American continent — there, under 
its walls, joining in deadly conflict— wounded — stretched upon the field — 
faint with the loss of blood — with sight already dimmed — his life ebbing 
fast — cheered at last by the sudden cry that the enemy is fleeing in all 



4x6 THE CHURCH LIFE. 

directions — and then his dying breath mingling with shouts of victory. An 
eminent artist has portrayed this scene of death in a much-admired picture. 
History and poetry have dwelt upon it with peculiar fondness. Such is the 
Glory of arms! But there is, happily, preserved to us a tradition of this 
day, which affords a gleam of a truer Glory. As the v commander floated 
down the currents of the St. Lawrence in his boat, under cover of the night, 
in the enforced silence of a military expedition, to effect a landing at an 
opportune promontory, he was heard to repeat to himself that poem of 
exquisite charms — then only recently given to mankind, now familiar as a 
household word wherever the mother-tongue of Gray is spoken — the " Elegy 
in a Country Churchyard." Strange and unaccustomed prelude to the 
discord of battle ! And as the ambitious warrior finished the recitation, he 
said to his companions, in a low but earnest tone, that he "would rather be 
the author of that poem than take Quebec." And surely he was right. 
The glory of that victory was already dying out, like a candle in its socket. 
The true glory of the poem still shines with star-bright, immortal beauty. — 
Charles Simmer. 



SUCCESS IN FAILURE. 

CIRCUMSTANCES are not in our power ; virtues are. It is not in our 
power to avert the bitter failure which the earth may inflict : it is in 
our power to win the high success which God bestows. The young lions 
do lack, and suffer hunger; but they that seek the Lord shall want no 
manner of thing ; certainly, which is eternally, infinitely good. No man is a 
failure who is faithful and upright; no cause is a failure which is just and 
true. Yea, blessed are they who are defeated in the cause of righteousness, 
for theirs shall be the victory. 

There is but one failure ; and that is, not to be true to the best one 
knows. To us and to our race there is but one failure, and that is sin. Sin is 
a missing of the mark, a violation of the law, a swearing of the line. But 
he who walks in the narrow path ; he who obeys the eternal law, he who 
aims his arrow at the goal, cannot fail. Young men, yoti can do this. 

You may be poor, you may lead lives of struggle, your occupations 
may run counter to many of the natural delights of youth ; you may live in 
the midst of a complex and exacting civilization ; you may see no relief, 
no outlook to a tedious and dull routine. Well, bear it all, and bate no jot 
of heart or hope, for, in spite of it all, you need never fail. For all of us an 
inexorable limitation, an inexorable weariness, lies at the bases of life. Yet 
you may succeed better than many a mighty king ; and you need never fail, 
because you need never become the fettered thralls of sin. 



THE CHURCH LIFE. 417 

Be good and do good, and you will have won something better than 
a fortune or a coronet. 

To do this may not save you from abuse, or opposition, or earthly 
loss ; but if this and a thousand other calamities come upon you, you will 
be at the promontory, at whose base the tide-waves break in vain. Look, I 
say, at the cross of Christ, and study all that it means, and you will 
understand the meaning of your life. 

Look at a cathedral from without, and the windows are all dull and 
discolored and meaningless ; but step inside the hallowed edifice, and they 
glow with gules and amethyst, and tinge the sunlight with the grandeur 
or pathos of sacred histories. 

LIFE OFTEN LOOKS DINGY. 

So it is with human life. It often looks to us dingy and inexplicable; 
but step within the sanctuary of faith, and God's eternal sunlight, making 
the whole edifice radiant with eternal beauty and with infinite significance, 
streams into it with many-colored glories and Divine mercy and human 
heroism or toil. To-morrow, or the next day, or a few more morrows hence, 
death will crumble away the earthly temple ; but death will take us by the 
hand into another Temple, which needs no sunset colorings, because it 
shines with the white radiance of eternity, and therein our God himself is 
moon and sun. — Farrar. 



INDIAN APOLOGUE. 

THERE is a beautiful Indian apologue, which says: A man once said to 
a lump of clay, " What art thou ?" The reply was, " I am but a lump 
of clay, but I was placed beside a rose and I caught its fragrance." — So our 
prayers are placed besides the smoke of the incense ascending before God; 
thus they are made fragrant and a promise of success is given. In the old 
dispensation, a cloud hovered above the altar, and if by some mysterious 
means that cloud was borne down, it was a token that the offering was 
rejected; but if the smoke rose up, then the offering was accepted, and 
sinners might rejoice. Our prayers are always ascending to God in the 
cloud of incense out of the angel's hand. There is, then, an assurance of 
blessedness. It is taken out of our hands altogether — he makes our prayers 
his own, they are his own prayers ascending up to God's throne. — Punshon. 






To me a sermon is no sermon in which I can not hear the heart beat. 



4i8 THE CHURCH LIFE. 



CHURCH HOSPITALITY. 

THE Christian Register has made a suggestion of a mechanical appliance 
in this direction, which is an improvement on the methods in some 
churches, and which is improved on in some others. Here is its 
description : "A machine for performing the offices of church hospitality. 
It is to be placed in the vestibule of the church. The stranger drops a 
five-cent nickel in the slot. A metallic hand, fed by a current of ice-water, 
drops from a concealed arm, and is extended to the visitor, while a phono- 
graph, set in motion by the same nickel, welcomes the stranger in a few 
mechanical phrases. An automatic usher, operated by a cold chill, 
generated from an internal refrigerator, conducts the stranger to his seat. 
We were about to apply for a patent on this invention, but learned that 
with slight modifications the invention has already been in use in some 
churches for a good many years, the unimportant difference being that the 
nickel is put into the contribution box instead of in a box at the front 
door." Does this description apply to your church ? 



T 



REVERIE IN CHURCH. 

00 early, of course! How provoking! 
I told Ma just how it would be. 

1 might as well have on a wrapper, 
For there's not a soul here yet to see. 

There ! Sue Delaplaine's pew is empty, — 

I declare if it isn't too bad ! 
I know my suit cost more than hers did, 

And I wanted to see her look mad. 
I do think that sexton's too stupid- 
He's put some one else in our pew — 
And the girl's dress just kills mine completely; 

Now what am I going to do ? 
The psalter, and Sue isn't here yet ! 

I don't care, I think it's a sin 
For people to get late to service, 

Just to make a great show coming in. 
Perhaps she is sick, and can't get here — 

She said she'd a headache last night. 
How mad she'll be after her fussing ! 

I declare it would serve her just right. 






THE CHURCH LIFE. 419 

Oh, you've got here at last, my dear, have you ? 

Well, I don't think you need be so proud 
Of that bonnet if Virot did make it, 

It's horrid fast-looking and loud. 
What a dress ! — for a girl in her senses 

To go on the street in light blue ! — 
And those coat-sleeves — they wore them last summer — 

Don't doubt, though, that she thinks they're new. 
Mrs. Gray's polonaise was imported — 

So dreadful ! — a minister's wife, 
And thinking so much about fashion ! — 

A pretty example of life ! 
The altar's dressed sweetly — I wonder 

Who sent those white flowers for the font! — 
Some girl who's gone on the assistant — 

Don't doubt it was Bessie Lamont. 
Just look at her now, little humbug!— 

So devout— T suppose she don't know 
That she's bending her head too far over 

And the ends of her switches all show. 
What a sight Mrs. Ward is this morning! 

That woman will kill me some day, 
With her horrible lilacs and crimsons, 

Why will these old things dress so gay? 
And there's Jenny Welles with Fred Tracy — ■ 

She's engaged to him now — horrid thing! 
Dear me ! I'd keep on my glove sometimes, 

If I did have a solitaire ring ! 
How can this girl next to me act so — 

The way that she turns round and stares, 
And then makes remarks about people; 

She'd better be saying her prayers. 
Oh, dear, what a dreadful long sermon ! 

He must love to hear himself talk ! 
And it's after twelve now — how provoking! 

I wanted to have a nice walk. 
Through at last ! Well, it isn't so dreadful 

After all, for we don't dine till one ; 
How can people say church is poky ! — 

So wicked! — I think it's real fun. 

— Geo. A. Baker, Jr. 



420 THE CHURCH LIFE. 

BE SOCIABLE. 

AROUND the door of country meeting-houses it has always been the 
custom for the people to gather before church and after church for 
social intercourse and the shaking of hands. Perhaps, because we, our- 
selves, were born in the country and have never got over it, the custom 
pleases us. In the cities we arrive the last moment before service and go 
away the first moment after. We act as though the church were a rail-car, 
into which we go when the time for starting arrives, and we get out again 
as soon as the Depot of the Doxology is reached. We protest against this 
business way of doing things. Shake hands when the benediction is 
pronounced with those who sat before and those who sat behind you. Meet 
the people in the aisle, and give them Christian salutation. Postponement 
of the dinner-hour for fifteen minutes will damage neither you nor the 
dinner. That is the moment to say a comforting word to the man or 
woman in trouble. The sermon was preached to the people in general; it 
is your place to apply it to the individual heart. 

The church aisle may be made the road to Heaven. Many a man 
who was unaffected by what the minister said has been captured for God 
by the Christian word of an unpretending layman on the way out. 

PERSONAL MAGNETISM — NATURAL CORDIALITY. 

You may call it personal magnetism, or natural cordiality, but there 
are some Christians who have such an ardent way of shaking hands after 
meeting that it amounts to a benediction. Such greeting is not made with 
the left hand. The left hand is good for a great many things, for instance, 
to hold a fork or twist a curl, but it was never made to shake hands with, 
unless you have lost the use of the right. Nor is it done by the tips of the 
fingers laid loosely in the palm of another. Nor is it done with a glove on. 
Gloves are good to keep out the cold and make one look well, but have 
them so they can easily be removed, as they should be, for they are non- 
conductors of Christian magnetism. Make bare- the hand. Place it in the 
palm of your friend. Clench the fingers across the back part of the hand 
you grip. Then let all the animation of your heart rush to the shoulder, 
and from there to the elbow, and then through the forearm and through the 
wrist, till your friend gets the whole charge of Gospel electricity. 

In Paul's t ; me he told the Christians to greet each other with a holy 
kiss. We are glad the custom has been dropped, for there are many good 
people who would not want to kiss us, as we would not want to kiss them. 
Very attractive persons would find the supply greater than the demand. 
But let us have a substitute suited to our age and land. Let it be good, 
hearty, enthusiastic, Christian hand-shaking. — Around the Tea-Table. 



THE CHURCH LIFE. 421 



BAD MANNERS IN CHURCHES. 

WE observe that the old threadless stories are coming- up again about 
the bad treatment of strangers in churches. That much of this 
chronic complaint is a kind of semi-pious lying, is in our judgment beyond 
doubt, and the reason is that, having travelled over and around the world, 
and always attended church wherever the Sabbath found us, in some 
Christian church, we have never been treated with anything approaching 
rudeness. We have never, in the same number of places and occasions, 
found so much courtesy anywhere else, not even when paying for it at the 
highest price. The fact is more apparent that strangers are more frequently 
rude, and often offensive in their behavior, receiving courtesies without 
any decent recognition thereof. 

Not long ago a company of women came in a church in one of our 
cities where the pews are not rented, but the regular attendants contribute 
a stipulated sum each Sabbath to the support of the Gospel, and have 
their pews and sittings assigned to them by the officers of the church, the 
pew, to all intents and purposes, being their own. These three women 
rushed by the ushers, and sat themselves down in a pew where there was 
room for five persons. 

THE LADY WHO OCCUPIED IT HAD INVITED SOME FRIENDS 

who were not church-goers to sit in her pew. When she reached the pew 
and saw the situation, and perceived that there would not be room, she 
procured seats, with difficulty, through the hospitality of other members of 
the congregation, and then she returned to the pew and politely asked one 
of the women to move, that she and her little boy could sit down. The 
woman refused ; she said : " This is a free church, and we have as much 
right here as anybody in the church," and kept her place, until a gentleman 
across the aisle rose from his pew, and gave a seat to the practical owner 
of the pew, and found a place for himself somewhere else. Bad manners 
will, like Satan, come with the sons of God to the very altar of religion, 
offering vulgarity as their sacrifice. — Presbyterian. 



MY CREED. 



HOLD that Christian grace abounds 
Where charity is seen; that when 
We climb to Heaven, 'tis on the rounds 
Of love to men. 



422 THE CHURCH LIFE. 

I hold all else, named piety, 
A selfish scheme, a vain pretence. 

Where centre is not, can there be 
Circumference ? 

This I moreover hold, and dare 
Affirm where'er my rhyme may go, — 

Whatever things be sweet or fair, 
Love makes them so. 

Whether it be the lullabies 

That charm to rest the nursing bird, 

Or that sweet confidence of sighs 
And blushes, made without a word. 

Whether the dazzling and the flush 
Of softly sumptuous garden bowers, 

Or by some cabin door, a bush 
Of ragged flowers. 

'Tis not the wide phylactery, 
Nor stubborn fasts, nor stated prayers, 

That makes us saints; we judge the tree 
By what it bears. 

And when a man can live apart 
From works, on theologic trust, 

I know the blood about his heart 
Is dry as dust. 



-Alice Cary. 



CHURCH "ROUNDERS.' 



IN every great city there are a multitude of people who may be called 
"rounders," who go to church when it is convenient and are on hand 
early and late to get good seats. They have no church ties and care only 
for the pleasure of sitting with well-dressed people and listening to the 
music and the sermon. They take no part in the services and often sit half 
upright in prayer, and show by irreverence and conversation that they have 
no sympathy with the spiritual worship and teaching of the place. These 
persons fill the places which rightfully belong to the reverent and pious 



THE CHURCH LIFE. 423 

strangers who are in every city on the Sabbath, and it is in a large measure 
due to this class of attendants upon public worship that Christian visitors 
find such scant accommodations. It may be said that they have souls to be 
saved and minds to be instructed, but in many cases it is taking the 
children's bread and giving it to the dogs to spend effort and eloquence 
upon them. They live in the city and there is no reason why they should 
not identify themselves with a congregation, bear a part of its burdens and 
do some of its duties, but this they do not desire. They will be found 
wherever a famous preacher from abroad is to preach, and on all church 
festivals they come in crowds to the special service or the decorated church 
just as they would fill a music hall or theatre if it cost nothing. And some 
of them have money enough to lavish on finery and jewels and make plain 
Christians ashamed of their company by their foolish and extravagant 
display. The plain, poor man who is eager to worship in spirit and in truth 
has a better claim to a seat in the sanctuary than they, but his modesty 
stands little chance when these intrusive and urgent vagabonds assert their 
claims and push themselves forward as if they owned the place. — New York 
Observer. 



LOVE FOR SOULS. 

WE are told, in regard to the sainted Frances Ridley Havergal, that it 
was her continual practice to try and look upon every one as her 
Lord, to whom she might do some service of love. Whether it was the 
great, the rich, the humble, or the degraded, it was all the same to her. 
She sought some one in whom her Lord and Saviour might dwell, and she 
was willing to stoop down and, for His sake, do some service of love. The 
supercilious haughtiness of the human heart passes, with its cold and 
ghastly indifference, thousands for whom Christ died, and, if the heart of 
God's people be not stirred, if they be not roused to pity the wretched and 
to lift up the fallen, then darkness must cover the earth, and gross darkness 
the people. When we look at the character of our Blessed Lord, we see 
that His wondrous work was directed just to that great and tremendous 
salvation, which every believer yearns to behold in us. He separated what 
man does not separate: He separated the criminal from his crime, the 
sinner from his sin, the guilty from his guilt, and He loved the sinner, 
while He hated the sin. We speak and say : " I can not endure this man, I 
must pass him by." Why? Well, because of his character. Another 
says, " I hate this individual." Well, why ? Because he is an offence to 
man. Yes, but Christ's character is not seen in us, when we speak thus. 
There was One who looked right down into the deep sorrowing heart of 



424 THE CHURCH LIFE. 

man, and could see his crimes distinctly, yet loved with an eternity of love 
the poor lost one whom He beheld. The sneering Pharisee could not 
understand it. The devout pietists of His day scorned Him. Simon said t 
"If this man were a prophet — which He is not — He would know what 
manner of woman this is that toucheth Him, for she is a sinner." Yes> 
Simon, Christ did know — better than she herself did. He knew all her 
past history, He saw it in the noontide of His own prophet life, but yet He 
loved her. He loved her, and He could save her, and could say to her, 
" Thy faith hath saved thee, go in peace." We see the quartz, Christ saw 
the gold. 



N 



THEOLOGY IN THE QUARTERS. 

OW, I's got a notion in my head dat when you come to die, 
An' stan* de 'zamination in de Cote-house in de sky, 
You'll be 'stonished at de questions dat de angel's gwine to ax 
When he gits you on de witness-stan' an' pin you to de fac's; 
'Cause he'll ax you mighty closely 'bout your doin's in de night, 
An' de water-milion question's gwine to bodder you a sight ! 
Den your eyes'll open wider dan dey ebber done befo', 
When he chats you 'bout a chicken-scrape dat happened long ago I 
De angels on de picket-line along de Milky Way 
Keeps a-watchin' what you're dribin' at, an' hearin' what you say; 
No matter what you want to do, no matter whar you's gwine, 
Dey's mighty ap' to find it out an' pass it 'long de line ; 
An' of'en at de meetin', when you make a fuss an' laugh, 
Why, dey send de news a-kitin'. by de golden telegraph ; 
Den, de angel in de orfis, what's a-settin' by de gate, 
Jes* reads de message wid a look an' claps it on de slate ; 

Den you better do your juty well an' keep your conscience clear, 
An' keep a-lookin' straight ahead an watchin' whar you steer ; 
'Cause arter while de time'll come to journey fum de Ian', 
An* dey'll take you way up in de a'r an' put you on de stan' ; 
Den you'll hab to listen to de clerk an' answer mighty straight, 
Ef you ebber 'spec' to trabble froo de alaplastr gate ! 

— J. A. Macon. 



The soul is always busy, and, if it be not exercised about serious 
affairs, will spend its activity on trifles. 



THE CHURCH LIFE. 425; 



SINGING IN CHURCH. 

ALL nature is full of music. But God has organized the human voice,, 
so that in the ordinary throat and lungs there are fourteen direct 
muscles which can make over sixteen thousand different sounds. And- 
there are thirty indirect muscles which, it is estimated, can produce over 
one hundred and seventy-three million sounds. Now, when God has filled 
all the world with melody, and so wondrously constructed the human voice, 
and ordered that singing and playing upon instruments should form a large 
portion of the service of the ancient temple, I conclude that God loves 
music. 

SACRED MUSIC IMPORTANT. 

That'sacred music is important, I know from the fact that God has 
commanded it it in the Bible. Sacred music has brought thousands into 
the kingdom of Jesus Christ. Why then run after unconsecrated sounds? 
In the church where four in the loft do all the singing, and the new tune 
wanders around the church unfriended and alone, sinners get the chills. 

Many of our churches are appendices to concerts. Often the poorer 
the preacher the finer the choir and the music. Many people go to church 
"just for the music." We are opposed to Sunday concerts. If you want to 
run a church on the choir, discharge the preacher and take the money you 
pay him to clothe the naked and feed the hungry. 

There are churches in this city in which it costs fifty dollars to sing 
" Jesus Lover of My Soul," to the tune " When the Swallows Homeward Fly." 
The choir have a monopoly, because the mothers and fathers in Israel 
can not raise their cracked voices to where the new tune tries to go, — and 
never gets there. 

SUNDAY CONCERTS. 

Who can decipher an anthem? Write it out as sung, and what 
nonsense! We don't object to a quartette leading the singing, but we do 
object to the unconverted singing the praises of God "for revenue only." 
How much like Heaven it will be when in our solemn services of the 
Sabbath we will be favored with snatches from "Trovatore," "Huguenots," 
"Mascotte," "Faust, "Mikado," "Little Tycoon," and "Nero," from the most 
eminent artists of our opera companies? If we can have Sunday concerts 
in the churches, why object to them in the buildings specially adapted 
for these things ? 

This awful massacre of sacred music makes the angels weep. You 
know that there are churches in this city where the people are not expected 
to sing. The preacher does the praying, the choir does the singing, the 



426 THE CHURCH LIFE. 

congregation does the paying, and the farce is ended. Let the people clear 
their throats, take their harps down from the willows, and sing. Everybody 
sing! Let -us rouse up the old hymns and tunes that have not been more 
than half awake since the time of our grandfathers. A singing church is 
a power among the people, and it can do anything that ought to be done. 
If you have a voice and can sing and you keep quiet, you commit a 
sin against God. If you do not sing on earth the praises of God, I do not 
believe that you will sing them in glory. All sing, and the inaccuracies of 
the few will be drowned out. God asks you to do as well as you can, and 
you may rest assured that the angels won't laugh at you if you get the 
"wrong pitch or keep wrong time. Let us sing. Everybody sing. 

" Let those refuse to sing, 
Who never knew our God, 
But children of the Heavenly King 
Should speak their joys abroad." 



A WORD WITH MRS. GRUNDY. 

SOME parishoners seem to regard themselves as having a kind of right 
over their minister, as voters over the representative. One pastor is 
dismissed, because in theological opinions he is " Old School," and another 
because he is "New School;" one, because he is a Republican, and another, 
because he is a Democrat; one because, though an earnest man of God, 
he differs from some of his people as to the best means of promoting 
temperance, and another, because he does not agree with all his people on 
the difficult subject of amusements. 

"I have nothing against Mr. A.," says a church-member, "but I don't 
relish his extempore preaching. I do wish he would study more, for I like 
to be fed when I go to church." 

"Why can't Mr. B. dispense with his written sermons, and trust to 
the inspiration of the moment? I am tired of those everlasting 'notes.'" 

" I wish Mr. C. was a smarter man. He is not up to this place and 
never will be, and his removal is simply a question of time." 

"If Mr. D. were only a pastor, we might get along; but his calls are 
like angels' visits, few and far between." 

"Mr. E.'s sermons are getting altogether too doctrinal, and no church 
can nourish on such preaching." 

" Mr. F. goes off into all the topics of the day. For my part, I think a 
minister ought to confine himself mostly to doctrinal preaching." 



THE CHURCH LIFE. 427 

" Of late, Mr. G. gives us nothing but expository sermons, and he is 
emptying the church. How I long for something spiritual !" 

Is not this a fair specimen of the criticism that goes on in many of 
our churches ? It is spoken thoughtlessly, without doubt, but the mischief 
is all the same. 

And what is the minister to do? For kind, judicious suggestions he 
is always grateful, and a general spontaneous impression will have great 
weight with him. But who knows so well as he what his people need, and 
how to give each his portion in due season? 

Now, every reader knows that this sort of thing prevails to a greater 
or less extent over all the country. It has done more, and is to-day doing 
more, than all other causes combined, to imperil the pastoral relation and 
make it of short continuance. And the question comes home directly to us 
all who wish well to the cause of Christ and desire a fruitful and peaceful 
state of things, What shall we do with fractious minorities in our churches, 
and with those wicked men who deliberately and persistently organize 
them? I say "wicked men," and I speak with deliberation and accuracy 
when I thus apply the term. 

A WICKED AND UNJUSTIFIABLE BUSINESS. 

It is time that this class of mischief-makers in our congregations 
should understand that they are engaged in a wicked and unjustifiable 
business. A church is a family, and it is an awful sin for one to break into 
and destroy its peace, check its growth, and rudely displace its legitimate 
head. For one, I hold that the time has come to call white white, and black 
black. These miserable people embody the very spirit of disorganization 
and strife, and should receive, as they deserve, the bold rebuke of pulpit 
and pew. The truth is the churches have been derelict touching this 
matter. They have treated as a minor fault what is in fact a positive and 
flagrant transgression, not only of the law of brotherly love, which the 
Bible makes the evidence of true piety, but of the very genius of 
Christianity, and a sin against the Holy Ghost. 



THE DEAR LITTLE HEADS IN THE PEW. 

IN the morn of the holy Sabbath, 
I like in the church to see 
The dear little children clustered, 
Worshipping there with me. 



428 THE CHURCH LIFE. 

I am sure that the gentle pastor, 

Whose words are like summer dew, 
Is cheered as he gazes over 

Dear little heads in the pew. 

Faces earnest and thoughtful, 

Innocent, grave, and sweet, 
They look, in the congregation, 

Like lilies among the wheat ; 
And I think that the tender Master, 

Whose mercies are ever new, 
Has a special benediction 

For dear little heads in the pew. 

When they hear, "The Lord is my Shepherd," 

Or, " Suffer the babes to come," 
They are glad that the loving Jesus 

Has given the lambs a home, 
A place of their own with His people ; 

He cares for me and for you, 
But close in His arms He gathers 

The dear little heads in the pew. 

So I love in the great assembly 

On the Lord's Day morn to see, 
The dear little children clustered 

And worshipping there with me ; 
For I know that my precious Saviour, 

Whose mercies are ever new, 
Has a special benediction 

For the dear little heads in the pew. 

— Margaret E. Sangster. 



WORK FOR ALL. 

HERE is my pulpit and my preaching. Your pulpit is the bank. Your 
pulpit is the store. Your pulpit is the editorial chair. Your pulpit 
is the anvil. Your pulpit is the house scaffolding. Your pulpit is the 
mechanic's shop. I may stand in this place, and through cowardice or 
through self-seeking may keep back the word I ought to utter, while you, 



THE CHURCH LIFE. 429 

with sleeve rolled up and brow besweated with toil, may utter the word 
that will stir the foundations of Heaven with the shout of a great victory. 
Oh, that this whole audience might feel that the Lord Almighty was 
putting upon them the hands of ordination ! I tell you, every one, go forth 
and preach this Gospel. You have as much right to preach as I have, or 
as any man has. Only find out the pulpit where God would have you 
preach, and there preach. Hedley Vicars was a wicked man in the English 
army. The grace of God came to him. He became an earnest and eminent 
Christian. They scoffed at him and said: " You are a hypocrite ; you are 
as bad as ever you were." Still he kept his faith in Christ, and after a 
while, finding that they could not turn him aside by calling him a hypocrite, 
they said to him : "Oh, you are nothing but a Methodist." That did not 
disturb him. He went on performing his Christian duty until he had 
formed all his troop into a Bible-class, and the whole encampment was 
shaken with the presence of God. 

HAVELOCK PREACHED RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

So Havelock went into the heathen temple in India, while the English 
army was there, and put a candle into the hands of each of the heathen gods 
that stood around in the heathen temple, and by the light of those candles 
held up by the idols, General. Havelock preached righteousness, temperance, 
and judgment to come. And who will say, on earth or in Heaven, that 
Havelock had not the right to preach ? 

In the minister's house, where I prepared for college, there was a 
man who worked by the name of Peter Croy. He could neither read nor 
write, but he was a man of God. Often theologians would stop in the 
house — grave theologians — and at family prayer Peter Croy would be called 
upon to lead ; and all those wise men sat around, wonder-struck at his 
religious efficiency. When he prayed he reached up and seemed to take 
hold of the very throne of the Almighty, and he talked with God until the 
very heavens were bowed down into the sitting-room. 

Oh, if I were dying, I would rather have plain Peter Croy kneel by 
my bedside and commend my immortal spirit to God than the greatest arch- 
bishop arrayed in costly canonicals ! Go, preach this Gospel. You say you 
are not licensed. In the name of the Lord Almighty, I license you. Go, 
preach this Gospel — preach it in the Sabbath-schools, in the prayer-meetings, 
in the highways, in the hedges. Woe be unto you if you preach it not ! 



Use not needlessly learned or hard words; he that affects to be 
thought learned, is like to be accounted a fool. 



430 THE CHURCH LIFE. 



NO TIME FOR IDLENESS. 

A RECENT statistician says that human life now has an average of 
thirty-two years. From these thirty-two years you must subtract all 
the time you take for sleep and the taking of food and recreation ; that will 
leave you about sixteen years. From these sixteen years you must subtract 
all the time that you are necessarily engaged in the earning of a livelihood ; 
that will leave you about eight years. From these eight years you must 
take all the days and weeks and months — all the length of time that is 
passed in sickness — leaving you about one year in which to work for God. 
O, my soul, wake up ! How darest thou sleep in harvest-time, and with so 
few hours in which to reap ? So I state it as a simple fact that all the time 
that the vast majority of you will have for the exclusive service of God will 
be less than one year. 



WANTED— A MINISTER'S WIFE. 



w 



ANTED— a perfect lady, 

Delicate, gentle, refined, 
With every beauty of person, 

And every endowment of mind ; 
Fitted by early culture 

To move in fashionable life, 
And shine a gem in the parlor: 

Wanted — a minister's wife. 

Wanted — a thoroughbred worker, 

Who well to her household looks — 
Shall we see our money wasted 

By extravagant Irish cooks ? 
Who cuts the daily expenses 

With economy sharp as a knife, 
And washes and scrubs in the kitchen : 

Wanted — a minister's wife. 

A "very domestic person ;" 

To callers she must not be out — 
It has such a bad appearance 

For her to be gadding about ; 
Only to visit the parish 

Every year of her life, 
And attend the funerals and weddings: 

Wanted — a minister's wife. 



THE CHURCH LIFE. 431 

GETTING RID OF THE PASTOR. 

WHEREVER you go, you find that in almost every church a minority 
exists, and that, owing to the conduct of this minority, the church is 
kept in a constant turmoil and unprofitable agitation. And the time has 
come — so widespread and notorious is this state of things — to look into the 
matter closely and fearlessly, and to ascertain, if possible, the cause and 
remedy of what is fast becoming unendurable to the pastors and a scandal 
upon religion itself. 

The first thing to be noted about minorities is that they are most 
frequently formed and marshalled in the name of religion. Any amount of 
wire-pulling and caucusing is being done in our churches, detrimental to 
their peace and growth, by a class of men who mask their selfish and 
ill-natured design behind the veil of excessive piety. 

THE PASTOR OFTEN ATTACKED. 

The attack is often against the pastor and in the name of "sound 
doctrine." It is astonishing how wise theologically some laymen are, 
especially if they hold some small office in the church. They act as if they 
were elected to be censors of the pulpit, and supply it from week to week 
with the needed measure of knowledge, in order that the people need not be 
led astray. You can find men in every church who never studied either of 
the two languages in which the Scriptures were written, who. know next to 
nothing about ancient geography and oriental history, whose profoundest 
reading has been "Barnes's Commentaries," who feel competent to sit in 
judgment week by week upon the utterances of men who devoted eight or 
ten years of their lives to prepare themselves to preach their first sermon, 
and who have very likely since spent twice that number of years in close 
unintermittent study of the Scriptures. 

MINORITY PARTY IN OUR CHURCHES. 

Another cause of the minority party in our churches is love of power 
or the spirit of domination. In almost every church are men who love to 
rule. They crave prominence in spiritual things. They are determined to 
have their own way. They desire to be elected to the office of deacon, or 
to be put on some committee, or be sent as delegate somewhere. If they 
do not succeed in these ignoble ambitions, they are soured and become 
crabbed and ugly. They begin to button-hole the weak brethren and 
canvass the church for opposition votes. They misquote and misapply the 
pastor's words. They start a dozen rumors ; they become the centre and 
origin of discontent. They have secret conferences and organize a party. 
26 



432 THE CHURCH LIFE. 



They drive the Spirit from the church; and out of the spiritual barrenness 
that they themselves have wickedly caused drive their strongest arguments 
"for a change.'' The pastor endures it as long as he can, until, fretted and 
weary with the unhallowed strife, he resigns his charge and retires, grieved 
and wounded in heart, from the field. 

And when he has prayerfully decided what is best for them, shall he 
veer at every breath like the vane on his steeple ? Is the shepherd to be 
led by his flock, or is he to lead them ? Indeed, was it not precisely to be 
their leader that he was ordained over them ? 

But many a parishioner forgets this, and, instead of a broad 
consideration for the whole church, sets up his own individual feeling and 
judgment as the standard of his duty. It is this narrow view that often 
leads to criticisms like those given, and which have the effect to loosen the 
minister's hold upon his church. Says one : " If you can not conscientiously 
class your pastor, as you ought, among your dearest personal friends, to 
stab whose reputation would be to wound yourself, then class him among 
your enemies, and fulfil the Lord's command to pray for him." 



YOUR MISSION. 



IF you can not on the ocean 
Sail among the swiftest fleet, 
Rocking on the highest billows, 

Laughing at the storms you meet, 
You can stand among the sailors, 

Anchored yet within the bay; 
You can lend a hand to help them, 
As they launch their boats away. 

If you are too weak to journey, 

Up the mountain, steep and high, 
You can stand within the valley, 

While the multitudes go by. 
You can chant in happy measure, 

As they slowly pass along ; 
Though they may forget the singer 

They will not forget the song. 

If you have not gold and silver 
Ever ready to command, 



THE CHURCH LIFE. 433 

If you can not towards the needy 

Reach an ever open hand, 
You can visit the afflicted ; 

O'er the. erring you can weep, 
You can be a true disciple, 

Sitting at the Saviour's feet. 

If you can not in the conflict, 

Prove yourself a soldier true ; 
If where the fire and smoke are thickest, 

There's no work for you to do — 
When the battle-field is silent, 

You can go with careful tread, 
You can bear away the wounded, 

You can cover up the dead. 

Do not then stand idly waiting 

For some greater work to do, 
Fortune is a lazy goddess, 

She will never come to you. 
Go and toil in any vineyard, 

Do not fear to do or dare, 
If you want a field of labor, 

You can find it anywhere. 



LIBERALISM. 



IT was announced, some time ago, that old Bigotry was dead and fairly 
buried. But it has been discovered of late, that he left behind him an 
only child, a prodigal son, who is arrived at man's estate. This son is 
known by the name of Liberalism. Young Liberalism is the very antipodes 
of his old father. He is handsome, polite, insinuating, and, although 
somewhat superficial, possesses that polish and tact which impose upon the 
general observers. He speaks all languages, subscribes to all creeds, holds 
a levee with all sects and parties, is friendly with everybody, but stands 
identified with nobody. He can swallow the wafer with the Papist, receive 
the cup with the Protestant, and thrust the Westminster Confession and 
the Methodist Discipline into the same pocket. You never can find 



434 • THE CHURCH LIFE. 

Liberalism at home; or, rather, "he is never at home but when from home." 
He sails all waters under all colors ; he exhibits the papers of all nations, 
but he hails from no port ; he charters to' no country ; and therefore we 
strongly suspect that he is, in reality, a pirate. — G. C. Cookman. 



THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 

THEY are like the different colors which constitute the beauteous rainbow 
upon the body of the dark cloud ; like the different parts in music, 
the tenor and the counter, the treble and the base ; like the radii of a circle 
of which Jesus Christ is the centre, and the nearer they come to the centre, 
the nearer they come to each other. Or, rather, may I not say that they 
are like the different companies which compose the grand army in time of 
war. Suppose the powers of Europe should combine against the liberties 
of our beloved country, and sending over their multitudinous and well- 
disciplined troops, should threaten to sweep away our republican 
institutions. The fact is announced, and war proclaimed by our federal 
government. What a marshalling of the forces for battle ! On every hand 
you hear the sound of the heart-stirring drum and the trumpet of war, 
calling the freemen of America to the tented field. What a scene is 
presented ! See, on yonder waves there floats the gallant navy of my 
country, prepared with her thunder to repel the invading foe or sink into 
the ocean's depths ! 

AND SEE ON THE LAND HOW THEY COME, HOW THEY CROWD 

in from all parts of this great confederacy ! Are they all horsemen, are 
they all infantry, are they all riflemen, are they all artillerists ? Have they all 
the same weapons of war, have they all the same uniform? What an 
endless variety prevails, and yet what unity. This great army of American 
patriots is composed of many, very many companies. Each company has 
its own officers, its own regimentals, its own weapons of war, and its own 
mode of warfare ; ay, and each company has its own little flag, too. But 
see, the star-spangled banner of my country waves over them all ! Yes, the 
star-spangled banner of my country waves over yonder gallant navy, 
prepared to repel the invading foe or sink into the ocean's depths. The 
star-spangled banner of my country floats over the land-army in all its 
variety, prepared to repel the invading foe or bite the earth in death. Even 
so, what are the different denominations of real Christians but the different 
companies which compose the grand army of Immanuel, the sacramental 
host of God's elect ? Each denomination, so to speak, may have its own 



THE CHURCH LIFE. 435 

officers, regimentals, and weapons of war ; ay, and each may have its own 
little flag, too. But, mark, the blood-stained banner of the cross — the bond 
of union for every pious heart — towers above them all ! 



A GENERAL ENGAGEMENT. 

I BELIEVE we are on the eve of a general engagement. Now, borrowing 
the allusion, will you permit me to marshal the Christian army on those 
principles which I have endeavored to sustain. Let, then, our Bible societies, 
with their auxiliaries, be a line of forts, established along the enemy's 
frontier as bulwarks of defence ; let them be military magazines, well 
stored with spiritual weapons and Gospel ammunition; general rallying 
points for the whole army, and strongholds from whence our missionary 
riflemen may sally forth on the enemy. 

LET OUR SUNDAY-SCHOOLS BE MILITARY 

academies, in which the young cadets may be trained for the battle of the 
Lord. Having thus disposed the outworks, let us endeavor to arrange the 
army. Suppose we begin with the Methodists, — and as they are good 
pioneers and excellent foragers in new countries and active, I propose that 
we mount them on horseback, and employ them as cavalry on the frontier. 
And as the Presbyterians love an open field, and act in concert, and move 
in solid bodies, let them constitute our infantry ; let them occupy the centre 
in the solid columns ; and fight, according to Napoleon's tactics, in military- 
squares, ever presenting a firm front to the enemy. Our Baptist brethren 
we will station along the rivers and lakes, and which, we doubt not, they 
will gallantly defend, and win many laurels in the naval engagements. Our 
Episcopal brethren shall man the garrisons, inspect the magazines and 
direct the batteries. But we want artillery-men. 

WHOM SHALL WE EMPLOY? 

The light field pieces and the heavy ordnance must be served. I propose 
that we commit this department to our Congregational brethren, and may 
they acquit themselves with a valor worthy of their ancestors. And now 
the army is arranged. We have one great captain, the Lord Jesus, whose 
orders we are bound to obey. Our standard is the Cross, and " Onward" is 
the watchword. Let us give no quarter. We fight for victory or death. 
At the same time let us preserve our original order. United in spirit and 
design, let us be distinct in movement. Let not cavalry, infantry, and 



436 THE CHURCH LIFE, 



artillery mingle in an indiscriminate mass. Let each keep his proper 
position, adopt his peculiar uniform, and fight in his own special manner. 
Let a strict religious discipline prevail throughout the camp ; let us, like 
the soldiers of Oliver Cromwell, read our Bible and pray twice a day. 
" Watch and pray!" Pray and watch ! — Cookman. 



THE CHURCH OF THE FUTURE. 

1 BELIEVE in the church of the future. I think there is a day not far 
distant, when from the watch-towers of Asia, once the land of lords 
many, there shall roll out the exulting chorus "One Lord!" — when from the 
watch-towers of Europe, distracted by divisions in the faith, there shall roll 
up the grateful chorus, "One Faith!" — when from the watch-towers of our 
own America, torn by controversies respecting the initiatory sacrament, 
that of birth into the visible Church of our Lord Jesus Christ, there shall 
roll forth the inspiring chorus, " One Baptism !" — when from the watch-towers 
of Africa, as though the God of all the race were not her God, as if the 
Father of the entire human family were not her father, — when from 
the watch-towers of neglected and despised Africa, there shall roll forth the 
chorus, "One God and Father of us all!" — when the sacramental host, 
scattered all over the face of this lower creation shall spring upon their 
feet, and, seizing the harp of thanksgiving, they shall join in the chorus 
that shall be responded to by the angels, " One Lord, one faith, one baptism, 
one God and Father of us all, who is above all, and through all, and in us 
all, to Whom be glory, dominion, and majesty, and blessing forever !" 
— Alfred Cook-man. 



- - i V 






l r 








^ks ■W ) pi¥iiual ^flifie 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 



o 



THE THOUGHT OF GOD. 

HOW the thought of God attracts 
And draws the heart from earth, 
And sickens it of passing shows 
And dissipating mirth ! 



God only is the creature's home ; 

Though long and rough the road, 
Yet nothing less can satisfy 

The love that longs for God. 

O utter but the name of God 

Down in your heart of hearts, 
And see how from the world at once 

All tempting light departs ! 

A trusting heart, a yearning eye, 

Can win their way above ; 
If mountains can be moved by faith, 

Is there less power in love? 

How little of that road, my soul, 

How little hast thou gone ! 
Take heart, and let the thought of God 

Allure the father on. 

Dole not thy duties out to God, 

But let thy hand be free ; 
Look long at Jesus, his sweet blood, 

How was it dealt to thee? 

The perfect way is hard to flesh ; 

It is not hard to love; 
If thou wert sick for want of God, 
How swiftly wouldst thou move ! 

— Frederick William Faber. 
439 



440 THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 



H 



HOLY AND REVEREND. 

OLY and reverend is the name 

Of God, our only King, 
And holy, holy, holy cry 

The angels when they sing. 

The deepest reverence of the mind 

Pay, O my soul ! to God ; 
Lift with thy hands a holy heart 

To his sublime abode. 

Just and true are all thy ways, 

And great thy works above all praise ; 

Humbled in the dust, we own, 
Thou art holy, thou alone. 



GOODNESS AND GREATNESS OF GOD. 

AND you, ye storms, howl out his greatness! Let your thunders roll like 
drums in the march of the God of armies ! Let your lightnings write 
his name in fire on the midnight darkness ; let the illimitable void of space 
become one mouth for song; and let the unnavigated ether, through its 
shoreless depths, bear through the infinite remote the name of Him whose 
goodness endureth forever! — Spurgeon. 



A CHRISTMAS CAROL. 

THERE'S a song in the air! 
There's a star in the sky ! 
There's a mother's deep prayer 
And a baby's low cry ! 
And the star rains its fire while the Beautiful sing, 
For the manger of Bethlehem cradles a King. 

There's a tumult of joy 

O'er the wonderful birth, 
For the virgin's sweet boy 
Is the Lord of the earth, 
Ay! the star rains its fire and the Beautiful sing 
For the manger of Bethlehem cradles a King ! 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 441 



In the light of that star 

Lie the ages impearled ; 
And that song from afar 
Has swept over the world. 
Every heart is a flame, and the Beautiful sing 
In the homes of the nations that Jesus is King. 

We rejoice in the light, 

And we echo the song 
That comes down through the night 
From the heavenly throng. 
Ay ! we shout to the lovely evangel they bring, 
And we greet in his cradle our Saviour and King!, 



THE IDEAL MAN. 



THE story moves rapidly on. The Angelic Annunciation, the Manger, 
the homage of the Wise Men, all pass before us like a panorama. 
Then come the sword of Herod, the flight, the retirement for thirty years, 
interrupted only by a reappearance at the age of twelve ; then come the 
Baptism, the Temptation, the Sermon on the Mount; then come miracles 
and parables and sayings — a new philosophy — the calling of followers — a 
tumult among people and rulers — the betrayal — the trial — the Crucifixion — 
the Resurrection — the Ascension. Three years more have passed ; the Pente- 
cost and the Church soon follow, and — the mightiest revolution known 
among men is begun, for the Being whose strange career we have gazed 
upon shall become the Christ of civilized humanity. 

THE MODEL LIFE. 

Observe carefully that this Christ holds up His life as the Model 
Life. He claims to be the Ideal Man. His unparalleled audacity — if I may use, 
the expression — is such that He actually stands up before the entire world 
and challenges criticism. With such a life then for an example, the Church 
passes on into the arena of history, offers that life as an Ideal for all 
humanity, and the teachings of that Christ as a universal code of morals. 
Now comes the test, the infallible test of time — time into whose crucible 
all impostures must go, and out of which none has ever yet come unharmed. 

Mark the procession of the centuries! Nero is Emperor of Rome 
now, and the century closes with Trajan wearing the imperial crown. 
The next century finds Marcus Aurelius on the banks of the Danube ; the 



44 2 THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 

next and Diocletian is Emperor ; and the next is ushered in by Constantine 
the Great, and closing sees the Empire divided. Another century, and 
Attila invades Italy, and Rome is plundered by the Vandals, and is 
recaptured by Belisarius in the next. 

THEN COMES THE CENTURY THAT SEES 

Mohammed's glory, flight and death, and another that closes with Charle- 
magne preparing for his coronation as Empsror of the West. The next 
century brings to Alfred the Great the imperial robes of Britain, and the 
next finds the house of Capet on the throne of France. A thousand years have 
passed! Harold is King of England now, the battle of Hastings is fought, 
and William the Conqueror has come. Another century and Ireland is 
subdued, and King John and his barons rule England. Another passes, 
and the Ottoman Empire appears. Another opens with Bruce crowned 
King of Scotland, Bannockburn is fought, and Bruce has died. The next 
century sees Henry the Fourth King of England, and in the next the 
battle of Agincourt is fought; Joan of Arc dies at the stake; Martin Luther 
is born ; America is discovered ; modern history is begun ; the light of 
universal intelligence is breaking; the centuries lose their distinctness, and 
we begin to measure time by eras of progress and epochs of thought, until 
at last there pass before the startling wonders of the nineteenth century — 
and there ! there in the very midst of its glory and culture, in the midst of 
its millions of purposes and plans, in the midst of its engines and telegraphs 
and palaces and philosophies, we find there has come through all the blood 
and tears and tyrannies of centuries, 

MARCHING WITH SLOW AND STATELY TREAD 

across the realms and across the ages — that Man-God — that God-Man 
— the Christ of modern Christianity, and with a gentleness unutterable, 
and a majesty unspeakable is winning the heart and moulding the 
character of the man whom we left with naught for a guide, but the 
consciousness of one Eternal and Infinite Being — yea, winning his heart 
and moulding his character even here in this Western world of ours, by 
teaching him the two simple lessons of the Fatherhood of God and the 
Universal Brotherhood of Man, 

Think of it! Eighteen hundred years of relentless criticism, and 
there lives not this day upon the face of the globe an honest and intelligent 
skeptic who dare lay his finger upon a single point in the character of 
the Ideal Man and deny that it is absolute moral perfection. — George R. 
Wendling. 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 



443 



THE CHARACTER OF CHRIST. 



THE more we study the character of Jesus Christ, the more we will fall 
in love with Him. There is no one with whom we can compare Him. 
He is the miracle of the ages, than whom there can be no greater — above 
all praise and eulogy. He is in the noblest and most perfect sense the 
realized ideal of humanity. 

It is a remarkable fact, that there is no hesitation among the great 
intellects of different ages: whatever their special position towards 
Christianity, whether its humble disciples, or those openly opposed to it, or 
carelessly indifferent, or vaguely latitudinarian, they have uniformly borne 
testimony to the originality and transcendent excellency of the character 
of Christ. Thus Josephus, the great Jewish historian, who lived in the 
latter part of the first century, refers to Christ as " a wise man, if it be proper 
to speak of Him as a man, for He was a doer of wonderful works, a teacher of 
such men as received the truth with pleasure." Shakespeare pays a lowly 
reverence to Christ in passage after passage. Richter calls Him " the 
holiest among the mighty, and the mightiest among the holy, who lifted, 
with His pierced hand, empires off their hinges and turned the stream of 
centuries out of its channel, and still governs the ages." Spinoza calls 
Christ " the symbol of divine wisdom." Kant and Jacobi hold Him up as 
" the symbol of ideal perfection ;" and Schelling and Hegel as that of "the 
union of the divine and human." Strauss, the most learned infidel of 
modern times, in speaking of Christ, says that " He remains the highest 
model of religion within our thoughts, and that it is as absurd to think of 
religion without Christ as it is of poetry without regard to Homer and 
Shakespeare." Renan says : " Whatever will be the surprises of the future, 
Jesus will never be surpassed." Goethe says: "I esteem the Gospels to be 
thoroughly genuine, for there shines forth from them the reflected splendor 
of a sublimity, proceeding from the person of Jesus Christ, of so divine a 
kind as only the Divine could ever have manifested on earth." 

"HOW PETTY 

are the books of the philosophers with all their pomp," exclaims Rosseau, 
the skeptic, " compared with the Gospels ! Can it be that writings at once 
so sublime and so simple are the works of men ? Can He, whose life they 
tell, be Himself no more than a man ? Is there anything in His character of 
the enthusiast or the ambitious sectary? What sweetness; what purity in 
His' ways! What touching grace in His teachings! What a loftiness in 
His maxims ! What profound wisdom in His words ! What presence of 
mind, what delicacy and aptness in His replies ! What an empire over His 
passions ! Where is the man, where is the sage, who knows how to act, to- 



444 THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 

suffer and to die without weakness and display ? My friend, men do not 
invent like this ; and the facts respecting Socrates, which no one doubts, 
are not so well attested as those about Jesus Christ. These Jews could 
never have struck this tone, or thought of this morality ; and the Gospel has 
characteristics of truthfulness so grand, so striking, 

SO PERFECTLY INIMITABLE, 

that their inventors would be even more wonderful than He whom they 
portray. If the life and death of Socrates were those of a sage, the life and 
death of Jesus were those of a god." Thomas Carlyle says: "Jesus of 
Nazareth is our divinest symbol ! Higher has the human thought not yet 
reached." Unitarian Channing acknowledges " that the character of Jesus 
Christ is wholly inexplicable on human principles." The first Napoleon, 
speaking of Christ, among other things, said : " I see nothing here of man, 
near as I may approach, closely as I may examine. All remains above my 
comprehension. Great with a greatness that crushes me — it is in vain that 
I reflect. All remains unaccountable. I defy you to cite another life like 
that of Christ." 

In Christ we have all that is lovely and attractive, true and good. 
The most perfect and excellent of all beings. 

" Defects through nature's best productions run ; 
The saints have spots, and spots are on the sun." 

But Christ was altogether lovely. All lights and no shades; all 
excellencies and no defects ; 

ALL BEAUTIES AND NO BLEMISHES. 

We soon exhaust the most excellent characters of earth. But in the 
character of Christ there are depths, heights, lengths and breadths of 
loveliness that we can never exhaust. 

" Nor earth, nor suns, nor seas, nor stars, 
Nor Heaven His full resemblance bears ; 
His beauties we can never trace 
Till we behold Him face to face." 

And after, in Heaven, we shall have seen the King in His beauty as 
many millions of years as there are sands upon the sea-shore, there will 
still be in Him an infinitude of undeveloped beauties to transport our 
expanding souls. 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 443 



THE BIBLE. 

"*0 angels' eyes 

This Rock its shadow multiplies, 

And at this hour in countless places lies. 

One rock, one shade 

O'er thousands laid — 
Rest in the Shadow of this Rock ! 

In the Shadow of this Rock 

Abide! Abide! 
Ages are laid beneath its shade. 

'Mid skies storm-riven 
It gathers shadows out of Heaven, 
And holds them o'er us all night cool and even. 

Through the charmed air 

Dew falls not there — 
Rest in the Shadow of this Rock ! 



-Faber. 



Lamp of our feet ! whereby we trace 
Our path when wont to stray, 

Our guide, our chart ! wherein we learn 
Of realms of endless day. 

Childhood's preceptor ! manhood's trust ! 

Old age's firm ally! 
Pillar of fire, through watches dark, 

To radiant courts on high. 



The precious Book I'd rather have 

Than all the golden gems 
That e'er in monarch's coffers shone 

Or on their diadems. 

And were the seas one chrysolite, 
This earth a golden ball, 

And gems were all the stars of night, 
This Book were worth them all. 



446 THE SPIRITUAL LIFE, 



N 



Ah, no, the soul ne'er found relief 

In glittering hoards of wealth ; 
Gems dazzle not the eye of grief ; 

Gold can not purchase health. 
But here's a blessed balm 

For every human woe, 
And they that seek that Book in tears, 

Their tears shall cease to flow. 



FAITH. 

ATURE wept when thou wert gone, but faith 
Can pierce beyond the gloom of death, 
And in yon world so fair and bright 
Beholds thee in refulgent light. 

Nature sees the body dead — 

Faith beholds the spirit fled ; 

Nature stops at Jordan's tide, 

Faith beholds the other side ; 

Nature mourns a cruel blow, 

Faith assures it is not so ; 

Nature tells a dismal story, 

Faith has visions full of glory ; 

Nature views Death's change with sadness, 

Faith contemplates it with gladness ; 

Nature writhes and hates the rod — 

Faith looks up and blesses God. 



THE NECESSITY OF FAITH. 

THE Bible declares, "Without faith, it is impossible to please God." 
What a sweeping, absolute assertion ! Good works, zeal, energy, 
benevolence, uprightness of life, sweetness of disposition, kindness, faith- 
fulness steadiness ; in short, everything within man is incomplete in God's 
sight until it springs from faith in the soul. 

But faith to be distinctively Christian or saving in its nature, must 
come from the heart and work by love. And herein Christian faith differs 
from all other kinds. The faith of the heathen is made up of fear and dread, 
and leads only to outward ceremonies and forms. The business man's faith 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 447 



is wholly mental in its nature ; and can be held or not without affecting the 
life ; so is that of the student in regard to books. The faith of the child 
comes nearest to that of the Christian ; but in this, the appeal to the eye is 
and must be always stronger than to the heart ; whereas in distinction from 
this, stands out the declaration of inspired Christian experience that " with 
the heart alone man believe th unto righteousness." 

THE JASPER WALLS AND GATES OF PEARL. 

Faith brings to view the city of the New Jerusalem, whose builder 
and maker is God, whose walls are jasper, and whose gates are pearl, and 
whose foundations are eternal ; and faith enables the soul to live within 
those gates and to walk those streets and to sit down beneath that tree of' 
life. In the place of these earthly treasure-houses, faith summons us to 
deposit enduring riches in heavenly vaults where no casualty can befall 
them, and where no burglar^ ever penetrates. To keep us from loving our 
homes with all their conveniences and luxuries too fondly, faith points to 
a heavenly mansion in our Father's home above. To enable the soul to 
release itself from a thraldom to social folly and the gay vortex of pride 
and vanity and display, faith lifts it up into communion and companionship 
with the holy and pure society of Heaven, and bids it slake its thirst at 
fountains whose waters inspire, but never degrade or intoxicate. For robes 
of earthly beauty, faith 'speaks of garments of glory that wax not old, and 
of a robe of righteousness, in which all-perfect heavenly dress rur souls 
may forever shine. And while we are necessarily engaged in earthly traffic 
and commercial pursuits, faith invites us to carry on holy trade and barter 
with the land that is filled with heavenly spices and provisions for immortal 
wants. And thus, at every point, faith provides the soul with that which 
will offset and counteract the influence and deadly fascination of a life in 
the flesh. 

HIGHER AND BETTER REALITIES. 

The victory that overcometh the world is only secured by this power 
of a living faith ; by being so persuaded of the truth of God's Word, and 
so filled with its light, and so surrounded by higher and better realities, and 
so impregnated with love for spiritual things and spiritual communion, 
that earthly objects and attractions shall lose their hold upon us, and 
cease to withdraw our feet from the heavenly highway to a truer and 
better life. 

Does any one say that all these blessed results and consequences can 
never be realized in an earthly life? Then turn to the Bible and read of 
Abel and Noah and Abraham and Sarah and Jacob and Moses and David 



448 THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 

and Samuel, and then ask, were these men and women more favorably- 
situated than are the favored dwellers in this nineteenth century? Did 
they have more light than we, or more spiritual advantages and privileges ? 
Were they not of like passions with us, just as faulty and full of sin and 
the love of the world ? And the answer to these questions will shame such 
a thought out of any candid mind. 

THE WAY, THE TRUTH, AND THE LIFE. 

In the midst of desolation and sorrow, and not knowing what else to 
do, the soul opened the Bible and read : "Ask, and it shall be given ; seek, 
and ye shall find ; knock, and it shall be opened." "For he that asketh, 
*receiveth, and he that seeketh, findeth." Spirit of God, it cried, "Come to 
my relief, and show me the Way, and the Truth, and the Life." And 
quickly a brighter light began to shine around, and another guide came to 
her side, saying, " O soul, thy companions were not able to give thee the 
good thou didst crave, nor were they able to lead thee to the land of fruition, 
because they are of the earth ; their names are Sight and Reason ; they 
have no power to scale the walls of the material and the actual ! But I 
come from the land of light and rest above; 'from the land of our God, 
and the home of the soul, where rivers of pleasure unceasingly roll, and the 
way-worn pilgrim reaches his goal on the ever-green mountains of life.' 
Give me a place on the throne of your affections, and put thy hand in mine, 
never withdrawing it, and I can lead you safely within the crystal walls." 
With tears of joy and gratitude the soul surrendered itself to faith, and 
was saved. 



o 



BELIEVING ON CHRIST. 

CHRIST! Thou art the Way! 



All ways are thorny mazes without Thee, 
When hearts are pierced and thoughts all aimless stray, 
In Thee the heart stands firm, thelife moves free : 
Thou art the Way ! 

Thou art the Truth ! 
Questions the ages break against in vain 
Confront the spirit in its untried youth. 

Thou art the Truth : 
Truth for the mind, grand, glorious, infinite, 
A heaven still boundless o'er its highest growth. 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 



449 



Thou art the Light ! 
Earth beyond earth no faintest ray can give ; 
Heaven's shadeless noontide blinds our mortal sight 
In Thee we look on God, and love and live : 

Thou art our Light ! 

Thou art the Rock ! 
Doubts none can solve heave wild on every side, 
Wave meeting wave of thought in endless shock ; 
On Thee the soul rests calm amidst the tide : 

Thou art the Rock ! 



FAITH. 



THERE is nothing so much worth saving as a human being. 
To each man there is nothing so important as having himself saved. 

There is no philanthropy worth bearing the name that does not 
involve the saving of men. 

The grander a man is, and the clearer the perception he has of 
humanity, the more does he desire all men to be saved. 

The interest of our Heavenly Father in us bears on our personal 
salvation. The mission of the Son of God was prompted by this affection. 

"Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners." All who are in 
Heaven, and all the good that are on earth, are deeply interested in our 
salvation. 

We naturally ask ourselves, " From what am I to be saved ?" Let us 
waste no energies in striving to be saved without understanding quite 
distinctly what is the occasion of our peril. 

Of this we may make ourselves sure, that we are not to seek to be 
saved from God. 

There is a widespread mistake on this point, and men harm them- 
selves and do great injustice to the Heavenly Father by cherishing the 
feeling that God is their great enemy, or at least the great occasion of their 
peril. One of -the direst of human mistakes is the supposition that God is 
the vast antagonist of Humanity, that if we secure any good we must 
obtain it from our Infinite Enemy by violence or persuasions, or some 
appeasing sacrifices. 

" God is Love." He desires that we shall not be lost. He does all 
that He can without reducing us to mere machines, to keep us from being 
27 



,<5o THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 

lost. He furnishes all helps toward our salvation. " God so loved the 
world that He gave His only begotten Son that whosoeverbelievethinHim 
should not perish." 

We are not to seek to be saved from the penalties of our sins. 
Penalties are pains that come from sinning. There are pains which come 
where there is no sinning. Our blessed Saviour was " undefiled and 
separate from sinners." Yet He was " a man of sorrows and acquainted with 
grief." 

From what then are we to be saved? From ourselves, from our bad 
character, from our sinfulness. 

HOW WE ARE SAVED. 

Let us fix our minds intently on that. To a man saved from his 
sinfulness, hell would be as sweet and cool a place as there is in the universe. 
To a man not saved from his sinfulness and from the consciousness thereof, 
Heaven, with all its arrangements, whatever they are, would be an instru- 
ment of exquisite torture. The Saviour of the world bears His Name, Jesus, 
because He saves His people from their sins, not from their pains and 
sorrows, and certainly not from anything which God is or God does. Now, 
how are we to be saved from our sins ? 

It cannot be by any works of righteousness which we have done or 
can do. 

Consider two things in regard to our works : 

First. — They are the mere fruits of our character. They are morally 
no better and no worse than the man who performs them. It is the man 
that imparts character to the act, not the act to the man. It is the apple 
tree that produces apples, and the vine that produces grapes. It is not the 
fruit that makes the particular kind of tree, it is the particular kind of tree 
which produces the particular kind of fruit. 

A LIAR MAY SAY WHAT IS LITERALLY TRUE, AND YET BE A LIAR. 

There is an undeniable value in every good deed performed by any 
man, from any motive. If it do him no good, it will be profitable to others. 
But there is no power in any good deed, or in any number of good deeds, to 
cancel one evil deed. A robber may distribute alms in the houses of a 
hundred poor people, but that can not atone for his robbery. 

When a man has done his best, he has done only his duty. 

The Christian religion has for its basis and its spirit precisely that 
which is the foundation of all science and the inspiration of all scientific 
progress, namely, a loving faith. 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 451 



Men talk slightingly, sometimes sneeringly, of faith, as if it were a 
fool's dream, as if its objects were the phantasmagoria of delirium, and as if 
in reality faith were only a subjective state of a feeble intellect. What 
ignorance, or forgetfulness, or contempt of intellectual philosophy such a 
course implies ! They forget that there can be no knowledge without faith, 
and no science without faith, that the first exhibition of intellectual 
existence after the display of those instincts which we share with the brutes 
is our faith, and that the last and loftiest and most splendid exertion of the 
grandest and most richly furnished intellects among scientific men is their 
faith. 

THE NECESSITY OF FAITH. 

Now, as our first and last, our lowest and our highest, intellectual 
exercise is faith; as all great achievements in discovery and trade and 
science have their basis in faith ; as no man, no matter how much knowl- 
edge he possesses, could ever make any exertion without faith in what he 
does not know ; as in the amassing of fortune or knowledge we are sustained 
by faith; as faith is equally natural to the little child and to the most 
learned philosopher; and, as any religion, to be adapted to the constitution 
of man, must rest itself on his faith; what means the sneer of the 
superficial or the outcry of the malignant against a system which has 
its most patent proof of its Divine origin in its being planted on man's 
faith ? 

IN REGARD TO THIS CHRISTIAN FAITH, THREE THINGS ARE TO BE NOTICED: 

First. — It is belief in truths of a certain kind. It is falsely charged 
on Christian teachers that they ignorantly teach that faith is everything. 
Belief in what does not exist can never be profitable to the intellect or the 
spirit of man. Truth must be the object of the faith which saves. 

Second. — It is not mere intellectual assent to a known truth. The 
affections must be involved if the faith is to purge sin from our characters. 
A religion that did not touch the heart could hardly reform a man and a 
life. In other departments, a man must believe in the laws which regulate 
those several classes of things, and he must love to have those just as they are. 
In all other things, " with the heart man believeth unto success ; " in 
religion, "with the heart man believeth unto righteousness." 

This loving faith is to control our actions. It will control them. 
" Unto righteousness " describes the external fruits of the internal grace. 
If there be any distinction between faith and works, it can be no other than 
the distinction between life and living. Faith is the life and works are the 
living. No man has a true faith and a false mode of living. If a man lies 



452 THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 

and cheats in business it is because his faith is false. You can not have a 
living faith and be a bad man. You may stand up in the church to-day and 
repeat the Creed, but if you go down town to-morrow and deceive your 
customers, and conspire with others to create " a corner," as it is called, 
in gold or stocks, or cotton, it will be because you are not animated by a 
true, vigorous faith. A morality that has not the basis of faith is an 
expediency, a sham, and a snare. — C. F. Deems. 



CHRISTIAN FAITH. 

CHRISTIAN faith is a grand cathedral with divinely pictured windows. 
Standing without, you see no glory, nor can possibly imagine any ; 
standing within, every ray of light reveals a harmony of unspeakable 
splendors. — Hawthorne. 

Faith is a grasping of Almighty power, 
The hand of man laid on the arm of God ; 
The grand and blessed hour 
In which the things impossible to me, 
Become the possible, O Lord, through thee. 



o 



THE SOUL'S CRY. 

EVER from the deeps 
y Within my soul, oft as I muse alone, 
Comes forth a voice that pleads in tender tone, 
As when one long unblest 
Sighs ever after rest ; 

Or as the wind perpetual murmuring keeps. 

I hear it when the day 
Fades o'er the hills, or 'cross the shimmering sea ; 
In the soft twilight, as is wont to be, 
Without my wish or will, 
While all is hushed and still, 

Like a sad, plaintive cry heard far away. 

Not even the noisy crowd, 
That like some mighty torrent rushing down 
Sweeps clamoring on, this cry of want can crown 
But ever in my heart 
Afresh the echoes start ; 

I hear them still amidst the tumult loud. 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 



Each waking morn anew 
The sense of many a need returns again ; 
I feel myself a child, helpless as when 
I watched my mother's eye, 
As the slow hours went by, 

And from her glance my being took its hue. 

I can not shape my way 
Where nameless perils ever may betide, 
O'er slippery steeps whereon my feet may slide ; 
Some mighty hand I crave, 
To hold and help and save, 

And guide me ever when my steps would stray. 

There is but One, I know, 
That all my hourly, endless wants can meet ; 
Can shield from harm, recall my wandering feet ; 
My God, thy hand can feed 
And day by day can lead 

Where the sweet streams of peace and safety flow. 

— Ray Palmer. 



T 



THE PHARISEE AND PUBLICAN. 

WO went to pray ? Oh, rather say, 
One went to brag, the other to pray ; 
One stands up close and treads on high, 
Where the other dares not lend his eye ; 
One nearer to God's altar trod, 
The other to the altar's God. 



THE WIDOW'S MITES. 

'WO mites, two drops, yet all her house and land, 
Fall from a steady heart, through trembling hand, 
The other's wanton wealth foams high and brave, 
The other cast away, she only gave. 

— Richard Crashaiv. 



454 THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 

CHRISTIANITY. 

CHRISTIANITY comes to us like a pleasant-formed angel, with her 
lessons of wisdom, her calls to virtue, and her rewards of piety. Like 
the king's daughter, all her garments smell of myrrh ; like a beacon-light on 
some dangerous coast, she guides the mariner to a friendly port ; like a good 
Samaritan, she lifts the wounded of earth and bears them to the inns of 
salvation; like the good physician, _ at her touch disease is dispelled and 
death paralyzed ; like the angel of plenty, from whose footfalls rise harvest- 
fields waving their golden grain, she is the giver of every good and perfect 
gift. She dissipates ignorance and enlightens the mind; she abolishes 
violence and creates love ; she destroys sin and induces righteousness ; she 
mitigates sorrow and awakens joy; she conquers death and opens Heaven 
to the blest. 

Is prayer a delusion ? I am content. Is the ministry of angels a 
fancy ? Let me believe they kiss my cheek, and fan my weary brow with 
their wings of strength. Is immortality a dream ? Let me dream on. Is 
Christ but human ? Let me pay Him the homage of a devout heart. Is 
Heaven but an imagination ? Let me bathe my spirit in its glorious antici- 
pations. Do I wander? It is in the fields of light. Do I go astray? It is 
with the great and good of all ages. — John P. Newman. 



H 



THE SABBATH. 

OW still the morning of the hallowed day! 
Mute is the voice of rural labor, hushed 
The ploughboy's whistle and the milk-maid's song. 
The scythe lies glittering in the dewy wreath 
Of tedded grass mingled with fading flowers, 
That yestermorn bloomed, waving in the breeze ; 
Sounds the most faint attract the ear, — the hum 
Of early bee, the trickling of the dew, 
The distant bleating, midway up the hill. 
Calmness sits throned on yon unmoving cloud. 
To him who wanders o'er the upland leas 
The blackbird's note comes mellower from the dale; 
And sweeter from the sky the gladsome lark 
Warbles his heaven-tuned song ; the lulling brook 
Murmurs more gently down the deep-worn glen ; 
While from yon lowly roof, whose circling smoke 
O'er mounts the mist, is heard at intervals 




Koitr) s Kiprr) l>0ur)<a(ztii< 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 457 

The voice of psalms, the simple song of praise. 

With dove-like wings Peace o'er yon village broods ; 

The dizzying mill-wheel rests ; the anvil's din 

Hath ceased ; all, all around is quietness. 

Less fearful on this day, the limping hare 

Stops, and looks back, and stops, and looks on man, 

Her deadliest foe. The toil-worn horse, set free, 

Unheedful of the pasture, roams at large ; 

And as his stiff, unwieldy bulk he rolls, 

His iron-armed hoofs gleam in the morning ray. 

— James Grahame. 



SIN. 

WHAT is sin ? The Bible answers, sin is a transgression of the law. 
What is crime? The satute-book answers in the same words, crime 
is a transgression of the law. What, then, is the difference between sin 
and crime ? In essence, in spirit, none at all. Sin is crime, and crime is 
sin. Crime is a word usually applied to civil offences, and sin to moral 
offences, but in both cases the moving principle is the same. One is an 
offence against man, the other against God, but both are transgressions of 
law which make the transgressor guilty, and subject him to penalty and 
punishment according to the nature of the offence. Consequently, every 
man who has ever broken one of God's laws, is a criminal in God's sight. 
He is looked upon as such, treated as such, and unless pardoned through 
Christ, will and must be punished as such at the last. 

SIN REGARDED AS A WEAKNESS. 

Outside of the Bible, sin is very generally regarded as simply a 
weakness, a fault, a failing, or an infirmity ; something that all men are 
exposed to, and which, therefore, ought to be passed over lightly. You say 
to any man that he is a sinner, and he will readily admit the fact, sometimes 
with a smile even, and by looks and actions, if not by words, reply: " That 
is nothing strange or unusual. There is nothing remarkable or serious 
about that." 

Yes, there is something very serious about that. Is it a light thing 
to be a criminal in the eye of the civil law? To go about, feeling that you 
are unsafe anywhere ; that you are liable to be arrested any moment, and 
made to suffer the penalty of your crime ? Undoubtedly, the most unhappy 
being on earth is a guilty criminal. Shouldst thou not be unhappy if thou 
art an unpardoned sinner, for thou art a violator of God's laws, thou art a 



458 THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 



criminal in His sight ? O, that we realized this fact, that sin is a crime, 
and, as sinners, we are criminals, then would we fly to Him who saves from 
sin and pardons the sinner ! 

I lay my head upon Thy infinite heart, 
I hide beneath the shelter of Thy wing, 
Pursued and tempted, helpless, I must cling 
To Thee, my Saviour ; bid me not depart. 



CONSEQUENCES OF THE FALL. 

THE harp of Eden, alas ! is broken. Unstrung and mute, an exiled race 
has hung it on the willows ; and " Ichabod " stands written now in the 
furrows of man's guilty forehead, and on the wreck of his ruined estate. 
Some things remain unaffected by the blight of sin, as God made them for 
Himself; the flowers have lost neither their bloom nor fragrance; the rose 
smells as sweet as it did when bathed in the dews of Paradise; and seas 
and seasons, obedient to their original impulse, roll on as of old to their 
Maker's glory. But from man, alas ! how is the glory departed ! Look at 
his body when the light of the eye is quenched, and the countenance is 
changed, and the noble form is festering in corruption, mouldering into the 
dust of death; or (change still more hideous) look at the soul! The spirit 
of piety dead, the mind under a dark eclipse, hatred to God rankling in that 
once loving heart, it retained but some vestiges of its original grandeur, — 
just enough, like the beautiful tracery and noble arches of a ruined pile, to 
make us feel what glory was once there, and now is gone. — Dr. Guthrie. 



HEARTS. 



SOME hearts are like the desert, naturally barren and sterile, and need a 
new soil entirely before any religious fruit can grow. Some are like 
natural trees that bear plenty of fruit of a poor quality; these need grafting 
with a new and higher life. Some are like marshes and fens, foul and rank 
with noxious weeds and plants that need killing out or pulling up by the 
roots, before anything better can have room to grow. Some are like rocks, 
utterly hard and insensible, and need to be blasted and broken up with 
great shocks of calamity, or accident, or suffering, before they begin to 
move or feel at all. Some are like wild vines that are frail, tender, clinging 
and loving, and these need to be taught and cultivated and strengthened 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 459 

by the power of faith, and the help which Christ alone can give. Some are 
like the timid, retiring wild-flower in the forest that needs to be brought 
out into the sunlight of God's reconciled countenance and be made to grow 
with new strength and beauty. Some are like gardens that bring forth 
fruits, flowers and weeds in about equal proportion ; these need cleaning 
and ploughing and replanting. Some are gnarled and twisted like a" bush, 
almost beyond the power of redemption by any ordinary means. Some are 
already putrid with lust, sin, and crime, like decayed wood or herbage. 
And others are naturally lovely and amiable, and inclined toward the good 
and lovely, just as rootlets strike out toward water by an inherent instinct; 
who are what may be called religiously inclined, but still not spiritual, not 
holy according to the Scriptures and the requirements of Christ, not 
Christians in the true sense of the word. 



FABLE FOR THE MORALIST. 

A BARREN and a fruitful vine are growing side by side, and the barren 
vine says to the fruitful one, "Is not my root as good as yours ?" 
" Yes, as good as mine." " And are not my lower leaves as broad and 
spreading ? and is not my stem as large, and my bark as shaggy ?" " Yes," 
is the reply. "And are not my leaves as green? and have I not as many 
bugs creeping up and down? and am I not taller than you?" "Yes," 
meekly replies the other, " but I have blossoms." " Oh, blossoms are of no 
use !" " But I bear fruit." " What, those clusters ? Those are only a 
trouble to the vine." But what thinks the vinter ? He passes by the barren 
vine ; but the other, filling the air with its odor in spring, and drooping 
with purple clusters in autumn, is his pride and joy; and he lingers near it, 
and prunes it, that it may become yet more luxuriant and fruitful. So the 
moralist and the Christian. — Beecher. 



QUART2 CRYSTAL, AND ACORN. 

SOME of you do not feel your need of Christ. You are moral, clean and 
manly young men. Your honor is unquestioned among your fellows 
You know that your lives, as far as outward appearances go, are every bit 
as pure and free from sin as many a Christian life. What need have you, 
therefore, for the religion of Jesus ? I recognize the difficulty in meeting 
such a thought as this. I know that you moral men are the hardest of all 
to reach with the Gospel. I know that oftentimes the world's moral men 



460 THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 

seem even more consistent in outward life than the Christian. Yet, I 
believe there is a re. J difference between them, but that difference is a 
difference lying in the heart behind the life. 

For example, take the illustration suggested by Professor Drummond. 
Suppose I hold in one hand a beautiful quartz crystal and in the other an 
acorn. There is no comparison between the two as regards beauty. My 
crystal is many times more beautiful than the dull and shapeless acorn, 
and yet, if I put the crystal through all the processes in my laboratory, I 
can make nothing else out of it. 

IT RETURNS AT LAST TO THE SAME SIX-SIDED 

prism. But if I put my acorn in the ground, by and by there arises the 
majestic oak. The crystal has reached its highest development. There is 
nothing beyond for it to attain to, but the acorn is only the germ of what 
it may be. Now this is the difference between morality and real vital 
spirituality. Morality has reached its best development upon earth, and 
oftentimes is far more beautiful than spirituality. Ah, but it doth not yet 
appear what spirituality shall be. It is only in the germ here. By and by, 
in the world to come, compared to what it is now, it shall be as the majestic 
oak is to the dull and shapeless acorn. Do you compare morality with 
spirituality? Remember, you are comparing the dead crystal with the 
living seed — the one is dead, the other has life abiding in it. " He that 
hath the Son, hath life," saith the Word, " but he that hath not the Son, 
shall not see life, but the wrath of God abideth on him." 



RUIN OF NEGLECT. 

ATEGLECTis enough to ruin a manr A man who is in business need not 
commit forgery or robbery to ruin himself ; he has only to neglect his 
business, and his ruin is certain. A man who is lying on a bed of sickness 
need not cut his throat to destroy himself ; he has only to neglect the means 
for restoration, and he will be ruined. A man in a skiff floating above 
Niagara need not move an oar, nor make an effort, to destroy himself, he 
has only to neglect using the oar at the proper time, and he will certainly 
be carried over the cataract. Most of the calamities of life are caused by 
simple neglect. Let no one infer that, because he is not a drunkard or 
adulterer or murderer, therefore he will be saved. Such an inference would 
be as rational as it would be for a man to infer, that, because he is not a 
murderer, his farm will produce a harvest ; or that because he is not an 
adulterer, therefore his merchandise will take care of itself. — Barnes. 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 461 

MANLY DECISION. 

HOW much feeling must a man have ? Enough to turn him from wrong 
to right. All beyond what is required for that is surplusage. Here 
are my two boys. Both of them have been quarrelling, and in their quarrel 
have done great injustice to some neighbors' children. I bring in the older 
one, and he denies it. I convict him after a great deal of wrangling. ' He 
stands out against my persuasion. He will not confess his fault. Finally, 
after much thrashing and whipping, I subdue him, and bring him to a 
confession and to a promise. The other boy comes in and begins to blush 
the moment I speak, and before I am done with my statement the tears 
start, and he says, " Father, it is true, and I am ashamed of myself. I did 
what I am accused of, and I am thoroughly sorry for it." Now, I want to 
know, which of these brothers has acted the most manly, and which gives 
token of the greatest moral health? And yet there are many persons 
who think there is a great advantage in being put into a caldron of 
conviction and bubbling and boiling and stewing there, and that they are 
good Christians just in proportion as they are mean and refuse to submit 
to magnanimity and honor and manhood. 

WAIT FOR FEELING. 

No, my friends, it is all wrong that a man must wait for feeling or 
certain experiences to be a Christian. I believe that Christianity at bottom 
is decision. It is manly purpose. It is taking stand resolutely for the 
Master. I like to look upon Christianity in the light of business principles, 
and to feel that this eternally important step for each one of us to take can 
be taken by a simple manly decision for Christ. I have no great respect or 
admiration for a religion that is founded on feeling. I do not believe that 
emotionalism is true Christianity. I have often seen this kind of religion, 
now filled with rapt ecstasy, now walking high above the stars in the 
enraptured joy of its faith, and then again, in a moment of coldness, I 
have seen it plunged into the very depths of despair and doubt and tossed 
about by much temptation ; and I have thought how uncertain and 
unstable a thing such a religion is. And then, again, I have seen a religion 
founded upon resolute decision. It had no such transports of joy as the 
other, but it held its way steadily onward into increasing peace and 
satisfaction, and with an unswerving steadiness amid all the storms of 
sorrow and temptation truly sublime. And I have thought to myself, 
would to God there were more of such religion. That alone will be faithful 
unto death. Such a faith as that will hold its own way through all the 
storms of life and all the shock of ages, enduring, unchanging and eternal. 



462 THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 

Religion is loyalty at bottom. The warp and woof of it ought to be 
decision. Feeling is the tissue woven in with the warp and woof. With 
feeling only the fabric is weak and unsubstantial. It is worthless and 
shoddy. First and foremost, put decision into your religion. Give me a 
faith crowded to the full with manly decision, a religion with lots of the 
"I will " in it. 



H 



FAITHFUL GUIDE. 

OLY Spirit, faithful guide, 
Ever near the Christian's side ; 
Gently lead us by the hand, 
Pilgrims in a desert land ; 
Weary souls fore'er rejoice, 
While they hear that sweetest voice, 
Whisp'ring softly, wanderer, come ; 
Follow Me, I'll guide thee home. 

Ever present truest Friend, 
Ever near Thine aid to lend, 
Leave us not to doubt and fear, 
Groping on in darkness drear, 
When the storms are raging sore, 
Hearts grow faint, and hopes give o'er- 
Whisper softly, wanderer, come! 
Follow Me, I'll guide thee home. 

When our days of toil shall cease, 
Waiting still for sweet release, 
Nothing left but Heaven and prayer, 
Wond'ring if our names were there, 
Wading deep the dismal flood, 
Pleading naught but Jesus' blood; 
Whisper softly, wanderer, come ! 
Follow Me, I'll guide thee home! 



It is a noble science to know one's self well, and a noble courage to 
know how to yield. 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 463 

THE GOSPEL CALL. 

ALL the offers of the Gospel are extended to you, "without money and 
without price," and you are conscious of the fact that these opportu- 
nities will soon be gone forever. The conductor of a rail-train was telling 
me of the fact that he was one night standing by his train on a side-track, 
his train having been switched so that an express train might dart past 
unhindered. He said while he stood there in the darkness, beside his train 
on the side-track, he heard the thunder of the express in the distance. 
Then he saw the flash of the headlight. The train came with fearful 
velocity, nearer and nearer, until, after a while, when it came very near, by 
the flash of the headlight, he saw that the switchman had not attended to 
his duty — either through intoxication or indifference, had not attended to 
his duty — and that train, unless something was done immediately, would 
rush on the side-track, and dash the other train to atoms. He shouted to 
the switchman, "Set up that switch!" and with one stroke the switch went 
back, and the express thundered on. Oh, men and women, going on toward 
the eternal world, swift as the years, swift as the months, swift as the 
days, swift as the hours, swift as the minutes, swift as the seconds — on what 
track are you running? Toward light or darkness? Toward victory or 
defeat ? Toward Heaven or hell ? Set up that switch. Cry aloud to God. 
"Now is the day of salvation." 



NOW! 



IT is vastly easier to come to the Master now than by and by. Child- 
hood is the open door, youth the closing gateway, manhood the 
barricaded entrance. Not long ago, in a company of Christians where more 
than a hundred were gathered, we took a ballot. It was found that three- 
quarters of them had been converted before twenty-one years of age, and 
nine-tenths of them before twenty-five. It is a momentous truth that the 
chances for conversion in . after-life, young men, decrease inversely as the 
square of the years. Joseph Parker, of London, says : " I despair of a man 
after he is forty years of age. You know how insurance companies calculate 
in cold blood the probable years of a man's life. I can calculate, in the same 
way, the probabilities as regards your eternal fortunes. Are you nearing 
the age of twenty-one and have not as yet yielded unto Jesus ? The proba- 
bilities are three to one that you will never yield. Have you passed the age 
of twenty-five and are still unsaved ? I must tell you, then, that according 
to the sternest arithmetic, the chances are ten to one that you will be lost 
forever." You know how plastic the child nature is. It is harder to change 



464 THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 

the habits of youth. Life settles still more into fixed grooves in early man- 
hood. It is easier to-day to turn to God than it will ever be again. I ask 
3 r outo decide for the Master to-day; because, by the hardening process of the 
gathering years, your life shall at last crystallize into awful and permanent 
defiance of God. 



LIFE IN CHRIST. 

WALK along the crowded streets, and mark 
The eager, anxious, troubled faces ; 
Wondering what this man seeks, what that heart craves, 
In earthly places. 

Do I want anything that they are wanting ? 

Is each of them my brother ? 
Could we hold fellowship, speak heart to heart, 

Each to the other? 

Nay, but I know not ! only this I know, 

That sometimes merely crossing 
Another's path, where life's tumultuous waves 

Are ever tossing, 

He, as He passes, whispers in mine ear 

One magic sentence only, 
And in the awful loneliness of crowds 

I am not lonely. 

Ah, what a life is theirs who live in Christ ; 

How vast the mystery ! 
Reaching in height to Heaven, and in its depth 

The unfathomed sea. . 

— Mrs. E. Prentiss. 



THE STORY OF LADDIE. 

SOME of you perhaps have read that little story of " Laddie." A country 
boy, wishing to make his fortune, comes to the great city of London. 
By and by, he becomes a great physician and gathers wealth and fame. His 
associations become most aristocratic, and his brown-stone house becomes 
filled with the most aristocratic and beautiful things. For many years he 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 465 

made frequent visits to the old country home and his old country mother, 
hut, by and by, the visits became more infrequent, and although he sent at 
regular intervals large sums of money to the old country mother, he at last 
never went to see her, and the mother's heart was breaking at her son's 
neglect. So one day she came to London, and stood on the door-step of 
the great brown-stone house. The servant admitting, left her standing in 
the hall, and told the doctor that a queer old woman from the country 
wished to see him. And he went into the hall to find his mother, and she^_ 
said : " Laddie, I have come to stay with you, you are my boy you know, I 
can not bear the separation, I'll never leave you any more." The doctor took 
his mother into his private room, and there they talked. 

HE THOUGHT OF HIS 

aristocratic friends, of the society in which he went, of the young girl whom 
he was so soon to marry, and then of his mother's strange country dress and 
stranger country manners and he was ashamed of his old mother. And he 
said, "Mother, I don't think you better stay here, you will be happier with 
your old friends. I will rebuild the country home for you, you shall have 
everything money will give you, but I don't think you will be happy here in 
this great city." And the poison of the son's infidelity entered her soul. 
The doctor went out and told the servants to prepare a room for an old 
nurse of his, and soon they retired for the night. After Laddie was in bed 
the door opened softly and in came the old mother. She came to the bed- 
side and arranged the clothes and said, " Laddie, I want to tuck you up 
again just as I used to do," and printing a kiss on his brow, turned and went 
away. Then there came a rush of noble, generous impulse to that doctor's 
heart. He said to himself, " Nay, she is my mother, I will not be ashamed 
of her. She shall live with me at my own house," and in the triumph of 
this noble resolution he fell asleep. On the morning he dressed and went 
joyfully to his mother's room, but the bed had not been touched. He called 
his carriage, flew to the railway station, 

TOOK THE FASTEST TRAIN TO THE COUNTRY 

town. She had not been there. He returned to the city, summoned 
detectives and put the police of the great city at work to find her. Month 
after month he continued the search, until six months had passed, and then 
again with unremitting effort, till a year had passed. Men as they passed 
him, said to one another, " What a change has come over that man." His 
form began to be bent, and his hair was sprinkled with gray, and his step 
had lost its spring. After eighteen long months had passed, one day in 
going through a hospital, an attendant asked him to come and see an old 

30 



466 THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 



woman who had been run over by an omnibus, and was all the time 
talking about " tucking up Laddie in bed." He hastened to the little cot to 
find the almost lifeless and insensible form of his dying mother. 

My friends, how this illustrates exactly our treatment of the Master. 
We are willing to send money to Him, by the way of foreign missions, but 
we do not want Him very near us and when He comes to see us and says, " My 
son, I have come to abide with you, to live in your very heart," we show this 
Jesus that we want Him not. Oh, it is a pivotal hour for each one of us 
when the Master comes to us with such a tender message ! Oh, friends, how 
dare we say Him nay ? For if we let the Master go hence now, He may 
never come again, and although we seek Him in tears and desolate sorrow, 
we may not find Him. Oh, but this hour is such an hour and just now the 
Master is speaking to us ! Who of us will decide for Christ to-day ? 



AN EARNEST PLEA. 

OH, the folly, the unutterable madness of a soul that is not working out 
its own salvation ! That casts all the great interests of eternity upon 
the fearful chance of a future repentance ! That can bear to look upward, and 
behold yonder blessed home of Heaven, with all its far more exceeding and 
eternal weight of glory, fading slowly and surely away forever! That can 
venture to gaze downward, into that estate of wrath, and tribulation, and 
anguish — drawing nearer, nearer — rising closer to the unsteady feet, with all 
its wild realities — moving beneath to meet its fearful coming — and yet sport 
on the brink, as if enamored of damnation ! 

Oh, what mean you! Men, men, immortal men, awake from your 
slumbers! This very day — this very hour — this very moment — ere the 
spirit that moves even now upon your hearts, grieved by your resistance, 
leaves you forever 1 Now — now — just as you are — begin for your lives this 
great work of salvation ! 

WORK OUT YOUR OWN SALVATION. 

Oh, we warn you, we beseech you, we entreat you — with all the 
strength God gives us — by all the motives God presses on your conscience 
— by the shortness and uncertainty of life — by the near approach of death — 
by the tremendous realities that make up eternity — all the shadows that 
make up its glooms — all the splendors that make up its glories — by all the 
vast interests that are at stake — your soul — your immortal self, tossed like a 
breaking bubble on a sea of storms— by all the mighty influences that are at work 
for your salvation — that father, that mother, that sister, that wife, that child, 
these praying, weeping Christians — yea, these shining angels that, all unseen, 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 467 



hover over you — yea, the eternal God that worketh within you — the Father, 
with His love — the Son, with His precious blood — the Spirit, with His gentle 
influences — by the stupendous realities of all God's universe, which hem you 
in, and move around you, as if working only to save you — oh, by all these 
things, we pray you, we plead with you, we beseech you, that, " while God 
worketh in you to will and to do, YOU WORK OUT YOUR OWN SALVATION WITH 
FEAR AND TREMBLING." — Charles Wadsworth. 



FAITH AND HOPE. 

FAITH always goes before, hope follows, and may, in some sort, be said 
to be the daughter of faith ; for it is impossible for a man to hope for 
that which he believes not, as for a painter to draw a picture in the air. 
Faith is the Christian's logic ; hope, his rhetoric. Faith perceives what is to 
be done; hope gives alacrity to the doing it. Faith guideth, adviseth, recti- 
fieth ; hope courageously encountereth all adversaries. Therefore faith is 
compared to a doctor in the schools ; hope to a captain in the wars. Faith 
discerns the truth; hope fights against impatience, heaviness of spirit, 
infirmity, dejectedness, desperation. Faith looks to the word of a 
thing ; hope, to the thing of the word; so that faith hath for its object the 
truth of God ; hope, the goodness of God. Faith is of things both good and 
bad ; hope of good things only. A man believes there is a hell as truly as 
he believes there is a Heaven ; but he fears the one, and hopes only for the 
other. Faith hath for its object things past, present, and future. Hope 
respects and expects only things to come. 



TRAINING THE FAITH. 

YOU must train the faith. Is that possible ? Yes ; I will give you an 
instance. Richard Cecil one day went into a room where his little girl 
was, bright-eyed and happy as she could be. Somebody had just given her 
a box of beautiful beads. The little child ran immediately to her papa to 
show this gift. " They are very beautiful, my child," he said ; "but now, my 
dear, throw them behind the fire." The little girl looked for a moment. It 
was a great trial. " Now, I shall not compel you to do it ; I leave it to you ; but 
you never knew papa to ask you to do a thing that was not kind to you. I cat) 
not tell you why ; but. if you can trust me, do so." It cost a great effort ; but 
th* little girl began in her own way to think, " Father has always been kind 
to me; I suppose it is right." And she took the box and, with a great effort 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 



threw it behind the fire. The father said nothing for some time. The next 
day, however, he presented her with something far more beautiful, and 
what she had long desired. "Now," said he, "my child, I did this to teach 
you to trust in that greater Father in Heaven. Many a time in your life, He 
will require you to give up and to avoid what you can not see the reason for 
avoiding ; but, if you trust that Father as you have trusted me, you will 
always find it best." That was training the child's faith. 



THE POWER OF PRAYER. 

LET prayer be the fixed habit of your life. It is the beaten path to 
greatness. Nothing under Heaven gives men such majesty of 
resources, and such a vision into the unseen and imperishable, as the cry of 
the heart in devout, believing prayer. Daniel, on his knees with his 
window opened toward Jerusalem, was greater than when administering 
the affairs of the empire. Luther was more a champion of liberty and 
truth at the mercy-seat than when nailing his theses to the church door in 
Wittenberg, or when standing in lone grandeur before the royal ecclesi- 
astical tribunal at Worms. Newton was more a giant when telling his 
wants to God than when pursuing his bright way through the heavens. 
Washington prayed, and he never fought such battles as when bowed 
before God in the bush or under the covering of his tent. Abraham 
Lincoln was a greater man on his knees before God, imploring him to drive 
Lee out of Pennsylvania, than when he signed the Emancipation Procla- 
mation. When, on the death of William IV., of England, June 20, 1837, 
Victoria, but eighteen years and seven days old, was awakened in the night, 
and told by the prelate that the throne of the United Kingdom of Great 
Britain and Ireland was hers, the first thing she said was: "I ask your 
prayers," and then and there they knelt down and prayed. Since that time 
all the governments of Europe have been worn out or fearfully shaken, but 
hers stands as firm as it did the day she ascended it ; and wherever, the 
world over, her name is pronounced, every Englishman feels like taking off 
his hat and shouting : " God save the Queen J" Let the light and power from 
the throne of God fall on every step of your career, and you will be winners 
in the race of life. 



If a jewel be right, no matter who says it is a counterfeit. If my 
conscience tells me that I am innocent, what do I care who tells the world 
that I am guilty? 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 469 



PRAYER. 

PRAYER may be likened to a telegraph with Heaven. Our messages 
go up with the lightning speed of thought. The mercies asked for 
often flow down to us with the promptness and velocity of a divine love. 
Sometimes the blessing sought is ours at once. Sometimes the answer is 
delayed. Then we can only do our duty and wait. Sometimes the reply 
comes in the sudden shock of an unexpected trial ; it comes like a death 
message over the wires. But it is all right. God knows what answer to 
send. I must take what my Father chooses to give. If I put myself into 
connection with God, I am only responsible for this end of the celestial 
telegraph ; not for the end that lies in the Infinite bosom of love. I 
must receive just what God sends. "Thy will be done." But trying 
messages are not so dreadful as to have the telegraph of prayer utterly out 
of order through long disuse, and the soul cut off from Jesus. Friend, is 
thy connection with the Divine Hearer and Giver broken off? Then, to 
your knees ! to your knees ! — Cuyler. 

" More things are wrought by prayer 
Than this world dreams of — 
For what are men better than sheep or goats 
That nourish a blind life without the brain, 
If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer, 
Both for themselves, and those who call them friends ? 
For so the whole round world is every way 
Bound by gold chains about the feet of God. 



ALWAYS IN PRAYER. 

A NUMBER of ministers were assembled for the discussion of difficult 
questions, and among others it was asked how the command to " Pray 
without ceasing " could be complied with. One of the number was appointed 
to write an essay, to be read at the next meeting; which being overheard by 
a female servant, she exclaimed : " What ! a whole month waiting to tell the 
meaning of that text ? It is one of the easiest and best texts in the Bible." 
"Well, well!" said an old minister, " Mary, what can you say about it? Can 
you pray all the time?" "Oh, yes, sir!" "What! when you have so many 
things to do ?" " Why, sir, the more I have to do, the more I can pray. Well, 
sir, when I open my eyes in the morning, I pray, ' Lord, open the eyes of my 
understanding;' and while I am dressing I pray that I may be clothed with 



470 THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 

the robe of righteousness ; and when I have washed me I ask for the washing 
of regeneration ; and as I begin to work I pray that I may have strength 
equal to my day; when I begin to kindle up the fire, I pray that God's work 
may revive in me ; and as I sweep the house I pray that my heart may be 
cleansed of all its impurities ; and while preparing and partaking of break- 
fast I desire to be fed with the hidden manna ; and as I am busy with the 
little children I look up to God as my Father and pray for the spirit of 
adoption — that I may be His child, and so on all day. Everything I do 
furnishes me with a thought of prayer." "Enough, enough!" cried the old 
divine ; " these things are revealed to babes, and often hid from the wise and 
prudent." After this, the essay was considered not to be necessary. 



FALSE WORSHIP. 

THERE are grand cathedrals which make us shudder as we enter them. 
The windows are so constructed as to exclude the light, and inspire a 
religious awe. The walls are of stone, making us think of our last home. 
The ceilings are sombre, and the pews coffin-colored. Then the services 
are composed to these circumstances ; and hushed music goes trembling 
along the aisles ; and men move softly, and would on no account put on 
their hats before they reach the door ; but, when they do, they take a long 
breath, and have such a sense of relief to be in the free air, and comfort 
themselves with the thought that they have been good Christians ! Now, this 
idea of worship is narrow and false. The house of God should be a joyous 
place for the right use of all our faculties. I had rather see a congregation 
laugh, when it is a sign of life in them, than to see them asleep under 
appropriately-called sound sermons. — Beecker. 



o 



THE ALTERED MOTTO. 

H, the bitter shame and sorrow, 

That a time could ever be 
When I let the Saviour's pity 
Plead in vain and proudly answered, 
"All of self, and none of Thee." 

Yet He found me. I beheld Him 
Bleeding on the accursed tree ; 
Heard Him pray, " Forgive them, Father!' 
And my wistful heart said faintly, 
"Some of self, andsome of Thee." 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 47 \ 

Day by day his tender mercy, 
Healing, helping, full and free, 
Sweet and strong, and, oh, so patient I 
Brought me lower, while I whispered, 
'Less of self, and more of Thee." 

Higher than the highest heavens, 
Deeper than the deepest sea, 
Grant me now my soul's desire, 
'None of self, and more of Thee." 



INFLUENCE OF FORGIVENESS. 

A WORTHY old colored woman was walking quietly along a street in 
New York, carrying a basket of apples, when a mischievous sailor, 
seeing her, stumbled against her and upset her basket, and then stood to 
hear her fret at his trick, and enjoy a laugh at her expense. But what was 
his astonishment when she meekly picked up the apples, without any 
resentment in her manner, and giving him a dignified look of mingled 
sorrow, kindness, and pity, said: "God forgive you, my son, as I do!" That 
touched a tender chord in the heart of the rude Jack Tar. He felt ashamed, 
self-condemned, and repentant. The tear started in his eye ; he felt that he 
must make some reparation. So, heartily confessing his error, and thrusting 
his hands into his pockets and pulling out a lot of loose "change," he forced 
it upon the wondering old black woman, exclaiming : " God bless you, kind 
mother! I'll never do so again!" 



REASONS FOR FORGIVENESS. 

HE that can not forgive others breaks down the bridge over which he must 
pass; for every one has need to be forgiven. As when the sea-worm 
makes a hole in the shell of the mussel, the hole is filled up with a pearl ; so ? 
when the heart is pierced by an injury, forgiveness is like a pearl, healing 
and filling up the wound. 



POWER OF FORGIVENESS. 

NEAR the end of the seventeenth century, a Turkish grandee in Hungary 
made a Christian nobleman his prisoner, and treated him with the 
utmost barbarity. The slave — for such he was — was yoked with an ox and 
compelled to drag the plough. But the fortune of war is changing, and 



472 THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 

the Turk fell into the hands of the Hungarians, who said to their enslaved 
fellow-countryman, "Now take your revenge upon your enemy." This was 
in accordance with the custom of the age; and the Turk, supposing^ 
as a matter of course, that he would be tortured to death, had already 
swallowed poison, when a messenger came from his Christian slave, telling 
him to go in peace ; he had nothing to fear. The Moslem was so impressed 
with this heavenly spirit that he proclaimed with his dying breath, "I will 
not die a Moslem ; but I die a Christian, for there is no religion but that of 
Christ which teaches forgiveness of injuries." 



WHY I BELIEVE IN THE BIBLE ! 

I BELIEVE in the Bible because my mother believed in it. As soon as I 
understood anything, I recognized in the Bible something peculiar andr 
divine. I learned to believe in the Bible because it was my mother's 
treasure. ■ 

My faith in the Bible has been justified, and confirmed by its very 
structure. The Bible is one - book, and its unity is of the highest order. 
My faith has been confirmed by its faithful portraiture of human life ; it 
pictures man and the world as they are ; the Bible is a photographic copy of 
human life. My faith is confirmed by the purity and consistency of its 
doctrines and precepts ; it is a great text-book of righteousness ; my faith 
has been confirmed by the fruits it has produced ; it has made good men 
and women. It has made motherhood sacred. It has made the cradle a 
sanctuary. It has purified the home. It has been the friend of the poor 
and the enslaved. It has recognized and respected the image of God, 
whether carved in alabaster, copper, or ebony. It has produced the grandest 
literatures. It has organized great and varied charities. It breathed new 
life into a dead world, whose corruption seemed hopeless, and it has 
produced the most glorious and fruitful of all historic civilizations. The 
tree is known by its fruits. 

MY FAITH IS CONFIRMED. 

My faith in the Bible is confirmed by the absence of even an attempt 
on the part of its enemies to surpass and so displace it. If it be only 
human, let the men of our day, with all the accumulated culture of two 
hundred generations, improve on the work of Jewish peasants and of 
Galilean fishermen. The sun will easily and certainly retain his primacy 
until some brighter luminary banish him from the skies. And there is only 
one way of subverting the Bible we have ; and that is to give us a better 
one. 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 473 

Finally, my faith, in the Bible is confirmed, in personal experience, by 
the adequacy of the good news it brings. It speaks of pardon, adoption, 
comfort in sorrow, grace to help, victory in death, life everlasting. 

I believe in the Bible because it makes every dark place radiant and 
fills me with the very joy of Heaven. And, so, with eager heart and 
confident assurance, I pass the torch my mother placed in my hands, to the 
hands of my children and my friends. — Behrends. 



BOOKS OF THE BIBLE IN VERSE. 

THE OLD TESTAMENT. 



T 



HE great Jehovah speaks to us 

In Genesis and Exodus, 
Leviticus and Numbers see 
Followed by Deuteronomy. 
Joshua and Judges sway the land, 
Ruth gleans a sheaf with trembling hand, 
Samuel and numerous Kings appear, 
Whose Chronicles we wondering hear; 
Ezra and Nehemiah now, 
Esther, the beauteous mourner show, 
Job speaks in sighs, David in Psalms, 
The' Proverbs teach to scatter alms ; 
Ecclesiastes then comes on, 
And the sweet Songs of Solomon. 
Isaiah, Jeremiah, then, 
With Lamentations takes the pen. 
Ezekiel, Daniel, Hosea's lyres, 
Swell Joel, Amos, Obadiah's ; 
Next Jonah, Micah, Nahum come, 
And lofty Habakkuk finds room ; 
While Zephaniah, Haggai calls, 
Rapt Zachariah builds his walls ; 
And Malachi his garments rent, 
Concludes the ancient Testament. 

THE NEW TESTAMENT. 

Matthew, Mark and Luke and John, 
Acts of Apostles follow on ; 



474 THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 

The Romans and Corinthians learn, 
Galatians with Ephesians turn ; 
Philippians and Colossians next, 
With Thessalonians have the text. 
To Timothy the truth is shown — 
To Titus and to Philemon. 
The Hebrews has Paul's parting words', 
When James, the brother of our Lord, 
And Peter and beloved John 
Take up the strain and bear it on. 
Jude's solemn words great things reveal, 
And Revelation sets the seal. 



MY MOTHER'S BIBLE. 

""*HIS book is all that's left me now, 

Tears will unbidden start ; 
With faltering lip and throbbing brow, 

I press it to my heart. 
For many generations past, 

Here is our family tree ; 
My mother's hands this Bible clasped ; 

She, dying, gave it me. 

Ah ! well do I remember those 

Whose names these records bear, 
Who round the hearthstone used to close 

After the evening prayer, ■ • 

And speak of what these pages said, 

In tones my heart would thrill ! 
Though they are with the silent dead, 

Here are they living still ! 

My father read this holy book 

To brothers, sisters, dear ; 
How calm was my poor mother's look, 

Who loved God's Word to hear ! 
Her angel face — I see it yet ! 

What thronging memories .come ! 
Again that little group is met 

Within the halls of home ! 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. %j\ 

Thou truest friend man ever knew, 

Thy constancy I've tried ; 
When all were false I found thee true, 

My counsellor and guide. 
The mines of earth no treasures give 

That could this volume buy ; 
In teaching me the way to live, 

It taught me how to die. 

— George P. Morris, 



RELIGIOUS CERTAINTY 

'* A \ 71THIN the dim twilight of revealed spirituality, troubled ones are 
V V constantly groping for the heart's-ease that is ever denied the 
traveller this side of immortality." 

This sentence when analyzed, is found to be as full of meaning as it is of 
beauty. From the writer's standpoint, he makes here three assertions — 
first, that Revelation is a dim twilight ; second, that all troubled or anxious 
ones are groping here for a foothold ; third, that certainty in spiritual matters 
is ever denied the traveller this side of immortality, or the future state. 

The thought at once springs up in a believing mind, is there no better 
posture or state in which the mind can rest than the one indicated by this 
sentence ? Or in other words, are there no good and sufficient grounds of 
certainty in religious life ? Is it a fact that we are condemned to grope 
evermore on this side of eternity in a dim twilight of doubt? Has not God 
done better than that for us with regard to Himself and His truth ? 

STATE OF UIsXERTAINTY. 

In striking contrast with this state of uncertainty are the words 
which we find coming from the lips of holy men of old. Listen to some 
of them. Says Job, " I know that my Redeemer liveth." Says Jethro, the 
priest of Midian, to Moses, " Now I know that the Lord is greater than all 
gods." Says David, " Now I know that the Lord saveth His anointed." Says 
Peter, " Now I knoivof a surety that the Lord hath delivered me out of the hand 
of Herod." Says Paul, " For I know whom I have believed." And again, 
" For we know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we 
have a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the 
heavens." And finally John says, " These things have I written unto you, 
that ye may know that ye have eternal life." 

No one is compelled to say that he rather thinks religion is true ; that 
possibly Christ is a living Saviour; that perhaps the Bible is the book of God; 



476 THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 

but on the contrary all can say in the language of Job, Paul, David, Peter,, 
and John, "We know." Becauseall can know the truth of these things just as 
firmly and certainly as they know any other well-attested truth or fact ; and 
by the same kind of evidence. Christianity is not a cunningly-devised fable, 
neither has it been kept hidden in a corner ; neither 

" Need we any wings 
To soar aloft to realms of higher things, 
But only feet which walk the paths of peace, 
Guided by Him whose voice 
Greets every ear, and makes all hearts rejoice." 

"Tossed with rough winds and faint with fear, 
Above the tempest, soft and clear, 
What still small accents greet my ear ? 

'Tis I ; be not afraid. 

" 'Tis I who led thy steps aright, 
'Tis I who gave thy blind eyes sight, 
'Tis I, thy Lord and Life and Light ; 
Be not afraid." 



THE WAY. 



iiry 



HE way is long, my Father ! and my soul 
Longs for the rest and quiet of the goal ; 
While yet I journey through this weary land, 
Keep me from wandering. Father, take my hand ; 
Quickly and straight 
Lead to Heaven's gate, - 
Thy child !" 

1 Is the way long, my child ? But it shall be 
Not one step longer than is best for thee, 
And thou shalt know, at last, when thou shalt stand 
Safe at the goal, how I did take thy hand, 
And quick and straight 
Led to Heaven's gate 
My child !" 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 477 

.... A HOLY LIFE. 

A HOLY life is made up of a number of small things ; little words, not 
eloquent speeches or sermons ; little deeds, not miracles or battles ; 
nor one great heroic act of mighty martyrdom, make up the true Christian 
life. The little, constant sunbeams, not the lightning ; the waters of 
Siloam " that go softly " in the meek mission of refreshment, not " waters of 
the river, great and many," rushing down in noisy torrents, are the true 
symbols of a holy life. The avoidance of little evils, little sins, little 
inconsistencies, little weaknesses, little follies, indiscretions and imprudences, 
little foibles, little indulgences of the flesh ; the advoidance of such little 
things as those goes far to make up, at least, the negative beauty of a holy 
life. — Bonar. 



CONVERSION OF CHILDREN. 

HOW early should we expect the conversion of our children ? Just as 
early as we begin to labor and pray in earnest for it. The heathen 
mother takes her babe to the idol temple, and teaches it to clasp its little 
hands before its forehead in an attitude of prayer long before it can utter a 
word. As soon as it can walk it is taught to gather a few flowers or fruits 
or put a little rice on a banana leaf and lay them upon the a 1 tar before 
the idol god. As soon as it can utter the names of its parents, so soon is it 
taught to offer up its petitions before the images. Who ever saw a heathen 
child that could speak and could not pray? Christian mothers, why is it 
that so many children grow up in this enlightened land without learning 
to pray ? Why is it that, when called upon to address a supplication to 
Him who made and sustains them, they so often blush and wish to be 
excused ? Is not our God worthy of homage ? Is not our God able to hear 
and answer prayer ? 



D 



WHAT ARE YOU DOING? 

O you ever tell what the Lord has done for your soul ? 
How does the world know you are a Christian ? 
Do you ever make a personal appeal to an unconverted soul ? 
Do your religious engagements take precedence over all others ? 
Have you tried to induce any one to attend your church meetings ? 
Have you welcomed any stranger in church ? 
Do you visit the poor, the sick, and strangers ? 
Have you sought to know our new members? 



478 THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 

Do you " go into the world and preach the Gospel " by giving as the 
Lord has prospered you ? 

Is secret prayer your daily habit ? 
Do you observe daily worship ? 



THE MINISTRY OF JESUS. 

ROM His lips 
Truth, limpid, without error, flowed. 

Disease 
Fled from His touch. Pain heard Him and was riot. 
Despair smiled in His presence. Devils knew, 
And trembled. In the Omnipotence of faith, 
Unintermittent, indefectible, 
Leaning upon His Father's might, He bent 
All Nature to His will. The tempest sank, 
He whispering, into waveless calm. The bread 
Given from His hands fed thousands, and to spare. 
The stormy waters, as the solid rock, 
Were pavement for His footstep. Death itself, 
With vain reluctance yielded up its prey 
To the stern mandate of the Prince of Life. 

— Edward Bickersteth. 



BE UNCOMPROMISING. 

MANY Christians are like the Leaning Tower of Pisa — as far gone from 
uprightness as it is possible to go without toppling over. They exhibit 
a leaning towards the world, sometimes for lack of a firm foundation, at other 
times for a false sympathy with the world, for fear it will think them Puritani- 
cal. The world is much more likely to pull over the Campanile at Pisa, than 
the Campanile to lift the world. The original intention of the Leaning Tower 
was to serve as a belfry, and it now swings a chime in which the heaviest 
bell is rated at twelve thousand pounds. The builders endeavored to 
compensate for the crookedness of the lower stories by a better adjustment 
of the upper stories. This not least of the tower's characteristics reminds 
us of the attempt which some make to atone for crooked conduct by a 
mystic spirituality. The week days, all wrong, cannot be set straight by 
topping them off with a little devotion on Sunday. The upper stories will 
always be imperiled where the foundations are crumbling. After all, the true 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 479 

purpose of the Campanile was not to excite the world's wonder by its leaning, 
but to call the people with its bells ; and for that work uncompromising' 
uprightness is best. The world will be better saved by uncompromising 
consistency, which rings out clearly, than by any attitude of false 
sympathy. The more one is lifted up to exact agreement of life with God's 
will the greater lifting power will one have to draw others Heavenward. Be 
strict to self, then, however lenient to others. He who breaks the least 
commandment, and teaches men so, shall be called least in the Kingdom of 
Heaven. — Christian Union. 



THE MYSTERIOUS. 

'AIR are the flowers and the children, but their subtle suggestion is 
fairer; 
Rare is the rose-burst of dawn, but the secret that clasps it is rarer ; 
Sweet the exultance of song, but the strain that precedes it is sweeter ; 
And never was poem yet writ, but the meaning outmastered the metre. 

Never a daisy that grows, but a mystery guideth the growing ; 
Never a river that flows, but a majesty sceptres the flowing; 
Never a Shakespeare that soared, but a stronger than he did enfold him ; 
Nor ever a prophet foretells, but a mightier seer hath foretold him. 

Back of the canvas that throbs the painter is hinted and hidden ; 
Into the statue that breathes the soul of the sculptor is bidden ; 
Under the joy that is felt lie the infinite issues of feeling; 
Crowning the glory revealed is the glory that crowns the revealing. 

Great are the symbols of being, but that which is symbolled is greater; 

Vast the create and beheld, but vaster the inward creator; 

Back of the sound broods the silence, back of the gift stands the 

giving; 
Back of the hand that receives thrill the sensitive nerves of receiving. 

Space is as nothing to spirit, the deed is outdone by the doing ; 

The heart of the wooer is warm, but warmer the heart of the wooing ; 

And up from the pits where these shiver, and up from the heights 

where those shine, 
Twin voices and shadows swim starward, and the essence of life is 

divine. 

— Richard Realf. 



4 8o THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 

BIND UP THE BROKEN-HEARTED. 

IT is a beautiful figure, this binding up — as though the Crucified One took 
the liniment and the strapping and put it round the broken heart, and 
with His own dear, gentle hand proceeded to close up the wound and 
make it cease to bleed. Jesus never fails in His surgery. He whose own 
heart was broken knows how to cure broken hearts. If you have that 
broken heart within you, beloved, Christ came to cure you ; and He will do it, 
for He never came in vain : " He shall not fail nor be discouraged." With 
sovereign power anointed from on high He watches for the worst of cases. 
Heart disease, incurable by man, is Christ's specialty. His Gospel touches 
the root of the soul's ill, whence are the issues of life. With pity, wisdom, 
power, and condescension, He bends over our broken bones, and ere He has 
done with them He makes them all rejoice and sing glory to His name. — 
C. H. Spurgeon. 



ART THOU WEARY? 

ART thou weary, art thou languid, 
Art thou sore distressed ? 
" Come to Me," saith One, " and coming, 
Be at rest." 

Hath He marks to lead me to Him, 
If He be my guide ? 
" In His feet and hands are wound-prints, 
And His side." 

Is there diadem, as monarch, 
That His brow adorns ? 
" Yea, a crown, in very surety, 
But of thorns." 

If I find Him, if I follow, 
What His guerdon here? 
"Many a sorrow, many a labor, 
Many a tear." 

If I still hold closely to Him, 
What hath He at last ? 
" Sorrow vanquished, labor ended, 
Jordan passed." 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 481 

If I ask Him to receive me, 

Will He say me nay ? 
Not till earth, and not till Heaven 

Pass away." 

Finding, following-, keeping, struggling, 

Is He sure to bless ? 
1 Saints, Apostles, Prophets, Martyrs. 

Answer, Yes." 

— From the Latin Translation of John Mason Neale. 



DIVINE GREATNESS. 

WHEN Massillon, one of the greatest divines France ever knew, was 
called to preach the funeral sermon of the departed king in 
the Cathedral at Paris, before the reigning king, the royal family, the 
Chambers and the grandees of France, he took with him to the sacred desk 
a little golden urn containing a lock of hair of the late king. The immense 
congregation was seated and the silence of death reigned. Massillon arose, 
holding the urn in his fingers, his hand resting upon the sacred cushion. 
All eyes were instantly fixed upon him. Moments, minutes passed. 
Massillon stood motionless, pale as a statue. The feeling became intense. 
Many believed he was struck dumb before the august assembly ; many 
sighed and groaned aloud ; many eyes were suffused with tears, when the 
hand of Massillon was seen slowly raising the little golden urn, his eyes 
fixed upon the king. As the hand was returned to the sacred cushion, the 
loud and solemn voice of Massillon was heard in every part of the 
cathedral, "God Alone is Great! There is no human greatness; God 
Alone is Great /" 



IF I SHOULD DIE TO-NIGHT. 

IF I should die to-night, 
My friends would look upon my quiet face 
Before they laid it in its resting-place, 
And deemed that death had left it almost fair ; 
And, laying snow-white flowers against my hair, 
Would smooth it down with tearful tenderness, 
And fold my hands with lingering caress ; 
Poor hands, so empty and so cold to-night ! 



^82 THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 



If I should die to-night, 
My friends would call to mind, with loving thought, 
Some kindly deed the icy hand had wrought ; 
Some gentle word the frozen lips had said ; 
Errands on which the willing feet had sped. 
The memory of my selfishness and pride, 
My hasty words, would all be put aside, 

And so I should be loved and mourned to-night. 

If I should die to-night, 
Even hearts estranged would turn once more to me, 
Recalling other days remorsefully. 
The eyes that chill me with averted glance 
Would look upon me as of yore, perchance, 
And soften in the old, familiar way ; 
For who could war with dumb, unconscious clay? 

So I might rest, forgiven of all, to-night. 

Oh friends ! I pray to-night, 
Keep not your kisses for my dead, cold brow. 
The way is lonely ; let me feel them now. 
Think gently of me ; I am travel-worn ; 
My faltering feet are pierced with many a thorn. 
Forgive, O hearts estranged, forgive, I plead ! 
When dreamless rest is mine I shall not need 

The tenderness for which I long to-night. 



w 



THE STAR OF BETHLEHEM. 

HEN, marshalled on the nightly plain, 

The glittering host bestud the sky, 
One star alone of all the train 

Can fix the sinner's wandering eye. 
Hark! hark ! to God the chorus breaks 

From every host, from every gem ; 
But one alone a Saviour speaks, 

It is the Star of Bethlehem. 

Once on the raging seas I rode, 
The storm was loud, the night was dark ; 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 483 



The ocean yawned — and rudely blowed 
The wind that tossed my foundering bark. 

Deep horror then my vitals froze, 

Death-struck — I ceased the tide to stem; 

When suddenly a star arose, 
It was the Star of Bethlehem. 



It was my guide, my light, my all ; 

It bade my dark forebodings cease ; 
And through the storm and danger's thrall, 

It led me to the port of peace. 
Now safely moored — my perils o'er, 

I'll sing, first in night's diadem, 
Forever and forevermore, 

The Star!— the Star of Bethlehem. 

— Henry Kirke White. 



THE GOSPEL AN ANTHEM. 

THE Gospel is an anthem from the harps of Heaven ; the music of the 
River of Life washing its shores on high, and pouring in cascades upon 
the earth. Not so cheerful was the song of the morning stars ; nor the 
shouts of the sons of God so joyful. Gushing from the fountains of eternal 
harmony, it was first heard on earth in a low tone of solemn gladness, 
uttered in Eden by the Lord God Himself. This gave the key-note of the 
Gospel song. Patriarchs caught it up, and taught it to the generations. It 
breathed from the harp of the Psalmists, and rang like a clarion from tower 
and mountain top, as prophets proclaimed the year of jubilee. Fresh notes 
from Heaven have enriched the harmony, as the Lord of Hosts and His 
angels have revealed new promises, and called on the suffering children of 
Zion to be joyful in their King. From bondage and exile, from dens and 
caves, from bloody fields and fiery stakes, and peaceful death-beds, have they 
answered, in tones which have cheered the disconsolate and made oppressors 
shake upon their thrones ; while sun and moon, and all the stars of light, stormy 
wind fulfilling His words, the roaring sea and the fulness thereof, mountains 
and hills, fruitful fields and all the trees of the wood, have rejoiced before 
the Lord, and the coming of His Anointed for the redemption of His people, 
and the glory of His holy name. — Dr. Hoge. 
29 



484 THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 



WHAT LOVE IS. 

LOVE is Patience. — Love waiting to begin, not in a hurry, not petulant, 
not hasty, calm, composed — waiting to begin when the summons 
comes, but meantime wearing the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit. 

Kindness. — Have you ever noticed how much of Christ's life was 
spent in doing kind things, in merely doing kind things ? Run over it with 
that in view, and you will find that He spent a great portion of His time 
simply in making people happy, in doing good turns to people. There is 
only one thing greater than happiness in the world, and that is holiness ; and 
that is not in our keeping ; God reserves that for Himself ; but what He has 
put in our power is the happiness of our fellow-creatures, and that is to be 
secured by o ur being kind. 

A GOOD EXAMPLE IS CONTAGIOUS. 

Generosity. — That is love, in competition with others. Whenever you 
have done a good turn, done a good work, you will find other men doing the 
same kind of work. Envy them not. Envy is a feeling of ill-will, and we 
hate ourselves for cherishing it. That will spring up the moment you get 
into your field, be it in this or any other land, unless you have learned 
generosity — to envy not. And then, after having learned that, you have to 
learn the other thing, to go into the shade, to hide, and not let your right 
hand know what your left hand has done. 

Humility. — Love hiding, " Vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up." 
And the fifth ingredient is a somewhat strange one to find in this summunt 
bonum. 

Courtesy. — Love in relation to etiquette. " Love doth not behave 
itself unseemly." Politeness has been defined as love in trifles. Courtesy 
has been defined as love in little things. And the secret of politeness is to 
love. Love can not behave unseemly. You can take the most untutored 
persons and put them in society, and if they have love as a reservoir in 
their hearts they will not behave themselves unseemly. They simply 
can not do it. 

DO UNTO OTHERS AS YE WOULD BE DONE BY. 

Unselfishness. — " Love seeketh not her own." Observe : Seeketh not 
that which is her own. In Britain the Englishman is devoted to his rights. 
He likes to stand up for his rights, his rights as a man and his rights as an 
Englishman. And I fancy you have the same kind of patriotism. You 
stand up for your rights ; and every man, as an individual or as a citizen, 
feels a sense of property over what he calls his rights. It is the privilege 




^Rj-je. Queipdierr) ^irjejel 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 487 

of that man to give up even his rights, if necessary, for the sake of another. 
" Seeketh not his own." It is easy to give up things that we are not quite 
certain are our own ; but the things that are obviously yours, that are 
legally yours, that you have earned, perhaps, by years of labor and sacrifice 
of trouble or money, to give up those things which are your own, that is the 
hard thing. And yet the most obvious lesson of the Gospel is that there is 
no happiness in having and getting, but only in giving. I say, there is no 
happiness in having or in getting, but only in giving ; and half the world 
is on the wrong scent in the pursuit of happiness. They think it consists in 
having and getting and in being served by others. It consists in giving and 
in serving others. 

THE NEXT INGREDIENT IS ALSO A REMARKABLE ONE. 

Good Temper. — " Love is not easily provoked." Now, we are often 
inclined to look upon bad temper as a very harmless infirmity. We speak 
of it as being a mere infirmity of nature, not a thing to take into very 
serious account in estimating a man's character, a kind of accident, a matter 
of temperament, and so on. And yet right here, right in the middle of 
this analysis of love, Paul plants that thing ; and the Bible again and again 
comes to that little infirmity, as we call it, and makes a good deal of it. It 
is not a little infirmity to smile at, the peculiarity of ill-temper is that it is 
the vice of the virtuous. It is the one blot on an otherwise noble 
character. 

MEN WHO ARE ALL BUT PERFECT. 

You know men who are all but perfect, and who would be almost 
entirely perfect, but you say they are hasty, they are touchy, they are 
ill-tempered. Now, there is nothing that a Christian has taken more 
trouble to eradicate forever from his being than ill-temper. It requires the 
struggle of years, perhaps of a life-time, but it has to be done. It is not to 
be looked upon as an accident of temperament ; but it is a sin, one of the 
blackest of all sins. It is the symptom of an unloving nature at bottom ; a 
want of patience ; a want of kindness, a want of generosity, a want of 
humility, a want of courtesy, a want of unselfishness, all are symbolized in 
one flash of evil temper. It is the revelation of what is inside a man, and 
therefore the man who has that must have his whole nature sweetened. 

It is not enough to deal with the temper. You must go to the root 
and sweeten the whole nature, and then temper will die away of itself. But 
how can a man who has not had a victory over that part of his nature have 
a part with God's people in this world or in the next world ? How is it 
possible ? Why, a man with a temper such as I have described would make 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 

Heaven miserable for all the people who are in it ; and except such a man 
be born again he can not enter the Kingdom of God. Christ says : " Whoso 
shall offend one of these little ones which believe in Me, it were better for 
him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned 
in the depths of the sea." That is to say, it is the deliberate verdict of the 
Lord Jesus that it is better not to live than not to love. — Henry Drummond. 



SINS OF OMISSION. 

IT isn't the thing you do, dear, 
It's the thing you leave undone, 
Which gives you a bit of heartache 

At the setting of the sun. 
The tender word forgotten, 

The letter you did not write, 
The flower you might have sent, dear, 
Are your haunting ghosts to-night. 

The stone you might have lifted 

Out of a brother's way, 
The bit of heartsome counsel 

You were hurried too much to say : 
The loving touch of the hand, dear, 

The gentle and winsome tone, 
That you had no time nor thought for, 

With troubles enough of your own ; 

The little acts of kindness, 

So easily out of mind ; 
Those chances to be angels 

Which every one may find — 
They come in night and silence — 

Each chill, reproachful wraith— 
When hope is faint and nagging, 

And a blight has dropped on faith. 

For life is all too short, dear, 
And sorrow is all too great, 

To suffer our slow compassion 
That tarries until too late, 



B 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. ■■ 489 

And it's not the thing you do, dear, 

It's the thing you leave undone, 
Which gives you the bit of heartache 

At the setting of the sun. 

— Christian Leader. 

REVENGE. 
YRON says: "Sweet is revenge." But we rather agree with Milton : 

" Revenge, at first though sweet, 
Bitter, ere long, back on itself recoils." 



Juvenal says : " Revenge is only the pleasure of a little, weak and 
narrow mind." Lord Karnes truly says: "The indulgence of revenge 
tends to make men more savage and cruel." The dog believes that revenge 
is sweet, and, with almost human tenacity, cherishes ideas of revenge. He 
neither forgives nor forgets. Revenge is not manhood ; it is rather doghood. 
When you are tempted to give the cutting or hasty answer, check yourself 
with the question : " Is this the reply my Saviour would have given ?" If 
your fellow-men should prove unkind, inconsiderate and ungrateful, be it 
yours to refer the cause to God. Revenge ! No such word should have a 
place in the Christian's vocabulary. Revenge / If I cherish such a feeling 
towards my brother, how can I meet that brother in Heaven ? " But ye have 
not so learned in Christ.' Christ did not answer cutting taunts and meet 
unmerited wrong. " Overcome evil with good." " Who, when He was 
reviled, reviled not again." " Let this mind be in you which was also in 
Christ Jesus." 



I DO NOT ASK, O LORD! 

DO not ask, O Lord ! that life may be 

A pleasant road ; 
I do not ask that Thou wouldst take from me 

Aught of its load ; 
I do not ask that flowers should always spring 

Beneath my feet ; 
I know too well the poison and the sting 

Of things too sweet. 
For one thing only, Lord, dear Lord ! I plead ; 

Lead me aright — 



49© THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 

Though strength should falter, and though heart should bleed- 
Through Peace to Light. 

I do not ask, O Lord, that Thou shouldst shed 

Full radiance here ; 
Give but a ray of peace, that I may tread 

Without a fear. 
do not ask my cross to understand, 

My way to see,— 
Better in darkness just to feel Thy hand, 

And follow Thee. 
Joy is like restless day, but peace divine 

Like quiet night. 
Lead me, O Lord, till perfect day shall shine, 

Through Peace to Light. 

— Adelaide Proctor. 



ARE YOU ALIVE ? 

AM I alive ? It is not a sufficient answer to this question for any Christian 
to say: " I was once converted." Thousands were born ten years ago 
who are now in their coffins. There is a great difference between being 
"made alive" and keeping- alive afterwards. Quite too many professors base 
their hope of being Christians, not on what they are now, but on some 
experience during a revival season in days gone by. Genuine conversion 
brings a man into a new state towards God. Old things have passed away ; 
he is a new creature. But he must constantly encounter a strong under- 
current, running like a mill-race, towards the old state of corruption. No 
renewed heart will "keep sweet" without a great deal of salting with divine 
grace. No converted man will stay converted unless he takes care of himself 
and the Master takes care of him. What is conversion? It is the turning 
of the heart to God; and unless the heart holds fast on God, and God holds 
fast to him, he will soon fall into vain confidence, apathy, pride, self-indul- 
gence, or any sin that "doth so easily beset" him. 

"Wherefore I say unto you all, watch!" Watch the stealthy 
approaches of the tempter. Watch for old habits of sin that will steal back 
again, though they have been driven off a hundred times "from the 
premises." Watch over your soul's nurseries in which the thoughts are 
cradled. Watch over an unruly tongue. Watch for opportunities to do 
good. Let the Mary side of your religion be ever at the feet of Jesus in 
humble devotion ; let the Martha side of your piety be ever abounding in 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 491 

the work of the Lord. In these days we hear much about the " higher life," 
but the best prescription that we know of for obtaining it is to use our knees 
for prayer, our eyes for watchfulness, our purses for liberal giving, our tongues 
for confessing Jesus, and both our hands in hard work to do Christ's will and 
to pull sinners out of the everlasting fires. — Cuyler. 



ABIDE WITH ME. 

u A BIDE with me ! Fast falls the eventide ; 
i\ The darkness deepens ; Lord, with me abide 
When other helpers fail, and comforts flee, 
Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me ! 

' Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day ; 
Earth's joys grow dim — its glories pass away; 
Change and decay in all around I see ; 

Thou who changest not, abide with me ! 

" Not a brief glance I beg, a passing word, 
But as Thou dwell'st with Thy disciples, Lord — 
Familiar, condescending, patient, free ; 
Come, not to sojourn, but abide with me ! 

' Come, not in terrors, as the King of kings, 
But kind, and good, with healing in Thy wings, 
Tears for all woes, a heart for every plea ; 
Come, Friend of sinners, and thus 'bide with me. 

" I need Thy presence every passing hour; 
What but Thy grace can foil the tempter's power i 
Who like Thyself my guide and stay can be ? 
Through cloud and sunshine, oh, abide with me ! 

" I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless ; 
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness ; 
Where is death's stingy? Where, grave, thy victory? 

1 triumph still, if Thou abide with me ! 

" Hold Thou thy cross before my closing eyes ; 
Shine through the gloom, and point me to the skies ; 
Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee ; 
In life and death, O Lord, abide with me !" — Henry F. Lyte. 



492 THE SPIRITUAL LIFE, 



PERSONAL INFLUENCE. 

THE greatest works that have been done have been done by the ones. 
The hundreds do not often do much, the companies never do ; it is the 
unit, just the single individual, that, after all, is the power and the might. 
Take any church — there are multitudes in it, but some two or three 
do all the work. Look at the Reformation ! — there might be many 
reformers, but there was but one Luther; there might be many teachers, 
but there was but one Calvin. Look ye at the preachers of the last age, 
the mighty preachers that stirred up the churches ! — there were many 
coadjutors with them ; but, after all, it was not Whitefield's friends, nor 
Wesley's friends, but the men themselves that did it. Individual effort is 
the grand thing. A man alone can do more than a man with fifty men at 
his heels to fetter him. Look back through all history. Who delivered 
Israel from the Philistines ? It was solitary Samson. Who was it gathered 
the people together to rout the Midianites? It was one Gideon, who cried : 
"The sword of the Lord and of Gideon!" Who was he that smote the 
enemy? It was Shamgar, with his ox-goad; or it was an Ehud, who, with 
his dagger, put an end to his country's tyrant. Separate men — Davids with 
their slings and stones — have done more than armies could accomplish. — 
Spurge on. 



A CHAPTER FOR MEN. 

MOST men prefer that their wives and daughters should be members of 
the communion of the Church. Unless they happen to be so pious 
that their piety interferes with my lord's pleasure, he rather thinks it a right 
and proper thing for women. But, as we read God's Word, man was made 
in the image of God, and woman is the glory of man. God expects more 
from man than He does from woman. He should be to her an example of 
goodness and purity and piety that she could look up to, and in so doing 
be aided to the eternal kingdom. Here is an able-bodied man that can 
work six days in the week, but is too weak to walk to church on Sundays. The 
woman, who is termed "the weaker vessel," can stand up and say her creed, 
and kneel down and say her prayers, but he, the lord of creation, the image 
of God, can do nothing of the kind. This specimen of God's image had 
better do a little thinking for himself. He will not be here many years 
longer ; will have to go forth some of these days, and there will be no wife 
to wait on him or help him ; he will go forth a stranger, into a strange 
country, and at the appointed time will have to stand up ; can no longer loll 
and vote Christ's service a bore ; will have to stand up before the Christ he 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 493 



■was ashamed of, and account to Him for the way he lived, for what he did, 
and for what he did not. Certain, is it? As certain as the sunrise. O, 
man, made in the image of God, redeemed by the precious blood of Christ, 
bestir yourself and act as one who must soon give an account to the 
Righteous Judge. 

THE SUFI SAINT. 

AT Heaven approached a Sufi Saint, 
From groping in the darkness late, 
And, tapping timidly and faint, 
Besought admission at God's gate. 

Said God, " Who seeks to enter here ?" 
" 'Tis I, dear Friend," the Saint replied, 

And trembling much with hope and fear. 
" If it be thou, without abide." 

Sadly to earth the poor Saint turned, 
To bear the scourging of life's rods ; 

But aye his heart within him yearned 
To mix and lose its love in God's. 

He roamed alone through weary years, 
By cruel men still scorned and mocked, 

Until from faith's pure fires and tears 
Again he rose, and modest knocked. 

Asked God, " Who now is at the door?" 

" It is thyself, beloved Lord," 
Answered the Saint, in doubt no more, 
But clasped and rapt in his reward. 
— From the Persian ; 

Translation of William R. Alger. 



A WELL-BUILT LIFE. 

A WELL-BUILT life is just the laying up of one grace and good deed 
upon another ; of faith and patience, and temperance -and benevo- 
lence, and courage and self-denial, and brotherly love. It is growing in 
grace. It is the sacred architecture of the Holy Spirit. "Ye are God's 
building." 



494 THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 

A well-built Christian is harmonious in all his parts. He is not a 
jumble of opposites and inconsistencies — to-day devout and to-morrow 
frivolous, to-day liberal and to-morrow stingy, to-day fluent in prayer and 
to-morrow fluent in falsehoods. He does not keep the fourth commandment 
on Sunday and break the eighth commandment by cunning frauds on 
Monday. 

Some professed Christians are as unfinished as the cathedral at 
Cologne, where vast towers have risen no higher than mere stumps, and 
where ugly wooden cranes conceal an exquisite Gothic tracery. — Cuyler. 



o 



THE RIGHT MUST WIN. 

IT is hard to work for God, 

To rise and take His part 
Upon this battle-field of earth, 

And not sometimes lose heart. 

He hides Himself so wondrously, 
As though there were no God ; 

He is least seen when all the powers 
Of ill are most abroad. 

Or He deserts us at the hou 

The fight is all but lost ; 
And seems to leave us to ourselves 

Just when we need Him most. 

Ill masters good, good seems to change 

To ill with greatest ease ; 
And, worst of all, the good with good 

Is at cross purposes. 

Ah ! God is other than we think, 

His ways are far above ; 
Far beyond reason's height, and reached 

Only by childlike love. 

Workman of God ! O, lose not heart. 

But learn what God is like ; 
And in the darkest battle-field 

Thou shalt know where to strike. 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 495 

Thrice blest is he to whom is given 

The instinct that can tell 
That God is on the field when He 

Is most invisible. 

Blest, too, is he who can divine 

Where real right doth lie, 
And dares to take the side that seems 

Wrong to man's blindfold eye. 

For right is right, since God is God 

And right the day must win ; 
To doubt would be disloyalty, 

To falter would be sin ! — Frederic William Faber. 



THE CHRISTIAN'S ADDITION TABLE. 

ST. PETER says : " Add to your faith virtue, and to virtue knowledge, 
and to knowledge temperance, and to temperance patience, and to 
patience godliness, and to godliness brotherly kindness, and to brotherly 
kindness charity." 

We are not to content ourselves with a single grace. Give all 
diligence, make good use of every Christian advantage, and secure as high 
attainments as we possibly can. The graces of religion are as susceptible 
of cultivation as any other virtues. We are to have an accumulation of 
virtues and graces. It is our business to add on one after another, until we 
have become possessed of all. 

Faith is mentioned first, because it is the foundation of all Christian 
virtues. Faith in Christ, and not a mere intellectual belief in the general 
existence of God, which may be said to be a universal religious sentiment. 
The devils believe and tremble. The belief in God is an ineradicable 
instinct of man's religious nature. It is incorporated in the structure and 
functions of his moral being. More than this, the whole universe proclaims 
there is a God ! The herbs of the valley and the cedars of the mountain 
bless Him ; each bird and insect that lives and moves proclaims Him. The 
seas roar Him, the winds whisper Him, the storm thunders Him, and the 
ocean proclaims His immensity. Man's own moral nature responds to this 
truth ; reason demands and accepts it ; conscience announces and enforces 
it. The fool alone has said in his heart, not his head, there is no God. A 
belief in God's existence is inevitable, and there is nothing praiseworthy or 
meritorious for a man to believe on God. 



496 THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 

t> 

Neither is there anything praiseworthy in a general belief in the 
historical existence of Jesus Christ, as recorded in the Gospels. An intellectual 
acceptance of the mere facts of Christ's life and death is not saving or 
Gospel faith. Every man, who believes in history at all, is obliged to 
believe in the existence of Christ, whether he wishes to or not. There is . 
no escaping it, except by a universal historical skepticism. 

Saving faith is unreservedly surrendering to Christ as our personal 
Lord and Redeemer ; taking Him as our master and model ; obeying His Word 
as the law and guide of our life. 

MANLINESS, FIRMNESS, AND INDEPENDENCE. 

"Add to your faith virtue." — Virtue here has reference to the common 
meaning of the Greek word, as referring to manliness, firmness, and 
independence. Many men's gentleness is the gentleness of weakness. The 
Christian must have strength of conviction and force of character. Gentle- 
ness can be overdone. We have need to add to the patience of Job, the 
meekness of Moses, and the amiability of John, the sharp words and 
shaggy mien of Elijah and John the Baptist, the boldness of Peter, the 
enthusiasm of Paul, the bluntness of Latimer, the severity of Knox, and 
the magnificent explosions of Luther's far-resounding indignation. 

Some blurt forth their feelings rudely, and apologize for their 
roughness by calling it honesty, straightforwardness and plainness of 
speech. Now, we can be explicit and open, and honest, and withal 
courteous and considerate of the feelings of others. We can add to fidelity 
brotherly kindness. No one was ever more plain in speech, more faithful 
and certain in reproof, than Christ ; but His love infused every warning. 
We can be strong characters, men of remarkable decision, inflexible 
purpose, aye, even be stirred with the anger that is as majestic as the frown 
of Jehovah's brow — the anger of truth and love — without renouncing the 
meekness and gentleness which were in Christ. 

THE KNOWLEDGE OF GOD AND SALVATION. 

" And to virtue knowledge." — The knowledge of God and salvation 
through the Redeemer. It is the duty of every Christian to make the 
highest possible attainments in knowledge. We should know as much of 
Christ as it is possible for us to know. The greatest object of Paul's desire 
was to know Christ, to become as fully acquainted as he could with His 
character, His plans, with the relations which he sustained to the Father, 
and with the claims of His religion. To know Christ is the greatest 
privilege of the Christian. 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 497 

In the Royal Gallery at Dresden there is a painting of the Divine 
Child, by Raphael, that is more admired for its beauty than any other like 
production. There was a tourist who was so charmed by this picture that 
day by day, for two months, he stood before the wonderful conception, 
spell-bound, occasionally weeping with delight as some new beauty would 
appear, and when his last day had arrived, and his horses were ready for the 
road, he ran back and took a parting gaze. We have the original of that 
picture in the four Gospels, sketched from life. Here behold Him, not on 
canvas, but the living, loving, acting Jesus. Study this portrait. Strive to 
know more of Christ. Nothing will prompt you so much to a life of self- 
denial ; nothing will make you so benevolent and so alive to the highest and 
best interests of the world. 

MASTERY OVER EVIL INCLINATIONS AND APPETITES. 

"And to knowledge temperance."' — The word temperance here refers to 
the mastery over all our evil inclinations and appetites. " Temperate in all 
things "—in sleep, in food, in drink, in speech, in business, in pastime, in 
everything. We are to confine everything within proper limits, and to no 
propensity of our nature are we to give indulgence beyond the limits which 
the law of God allows. 

The temperance cause should not be based upon a philological 
argument over a disputed word, nor on the debatable ground that drinking 
pure wine is a sin in itself. The wine that Christ made and drank was not 
the fiery and poisonous compound of modern distillation and manufacture. 
The wine of Palestine was light, pure wine. It was the usual beverage of 
that land ; and that drunkenness was rare is evident from the fact that 
there is no rebuke of it anywhere in the Gospels, or any reference to its 
existence. And not until we come to the Epistles of Paul, and to the customs 
and habits of the Gentiles, do we find temperance exhortations ; and he gives 
this reason for abstinence — charity to the weak. He says : "All things are 
lawful, but all things are not expedient. It is good neither to eat flesh nor to 
drink wine, nor anything whereby thy brother is offended or made weak." 

PATIENCE NOT SIMPLY ENDURING. 

"And to temperance patience." — I do not take patience in this 
connection to mean simply enduring trial without murmuring, complaining 
or rebelling, in order that the effects of affliction should produce in the soul 
the results which trials are adapted to accomplish. We are to exercise our 
opportunities for the play of good nature. We are not to be irritable, huffy, 
sensitive. We should not lose our temper. We live only by the forbearance 
of God. We are to repeat in our lives, as His children at least, something 



498 THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 

of this patience. We are taught to pray every day : " Forgive us our debts 
as we forgive our debtors." If we are exacting and revengeful, if we can not 
forgive the unkind treatment of others, how can we sincerely pray this 
petition ? 

"And to patience godliness." — True piety; reverencing God, His 
character and His laws ; obeying Him from love. Godliness is forming and 
influencing our life by a regard for God. 

"And to godliness brotherly kindness!' — Kindness is the sun of life. 
Give no pain. Say not a word, give not the expression of the countenance 
that will offend another, or send a thrill of pain to his bosom. Kindness is 
the charm with which the Christian should captivate, and the sword with 
which to conquer. How true it is that 

"A little word in kindness spoken, 
A motion or a tear, 
Has often healed the heart that's broken, 
And made a friend sincere !" 

Cherish a bright, sunny, cheerful temper and disposition. 

"And to brotherly kindness charity." — Charity is the brightest star in 
the Christian's diadem. With Cotton, let us pray : 

" Fair charity be thou my guest, 
And be thy constant couch my breast." 

Charity " thinketh no evil." With an unwilling ear and sad heart it hears 
bad news. It glories in no man's misfortune. It rather holds down its head 
and partakes of his shame. It rejoices in the belief that everybody is 
sincere. Where it can not succor want, it will condole. 

" Soft peace it brings wherever it arrives ; 
It builds our quiet, latent hope revives, 
Lays the rough paths of nature smooth and even, 
And opens in each breast a little Heaven." 



SECURITY IN TEMPTATION. 

I SEE the unclean spirit rising like a winged dragon, circling in the air, and 
seeking for a resting-place. Casting his fiery glances toward a certain 
neighborhood, he spies a young man in the bloom of life, and rejoicing in 
his strength, seated on the front of his cart, going for lime. " There he is!" 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 499 

said the old dragon : " his veins are full of blood, and his bones of 
marrow ; I will throw into his bosom sparks from hell ; I will set all his 
passions on fire ; I will lead him from bad to worse, until he shall perpe- 
trate every sin ; I will make him a murderer, and his soul shall sink, never 
again to rise, in the lake of fire." He descended with a fell swoop toward the 
earth : but nearing the youth, the dragon heard him singing : 

" Guide me, O Thou great Jehovah ! 
Pilgrim through this barren land : 
I am weak, but Thou art mighty ; 
Hold me with Thy powerful hand. 
Strong deliverer, 
Be Thou still my strength and shield." 

" A dry, dry place this,' ' says the dragon ; and away he goes. In the 
flowery meadow, he descries a maiden, about eighteen years of age, picking 
here and there a flower. " There she is !" says Apollyon, intent upon her 
destruction : " I will poison her thoughts ; she shall stray from the path of 
virtue ; she shall think evil thoughts, and become impure ; she shall become 
a lost creature in a great city, and at last I will cast her into the everlasting 
burnings." But he no sooner came near the maiden, than he heard her 
singing, with tones that might have melted the rocks : 

" Other refuge have I none ; 

Hangs my helpless soul on Thee. 
Leave, ah ! leave me not alone ; 
Still support and comfort me. 

" This place is too dry for me," says the dragon ; and off he flies. " I 
will have a place to dwell in," he says, " in spite of decree, covenant, or 
grace." As he was thus speaking, he beheld a woman, " stricken in years," 
busy with her spinning-wheel at her cottage door. " Ah, I see !" says the 
dragon ; " she is ripe for destruction ; she shall know the bitterness of the wail 
that ascends from the burning marl of hell." He alights on the roof of her 
cot ; when he hears the old woman, with trembling voice, repeating, " For the 
mountains shall depart, and the hills be removed ; but My kindness shall 
not depart from thee." 

"This place is too dry for me," says the dragon; and away he goes 
again. " In yonder cottage lies old William, slowly wasting away. He has 
borne the heat and burden of life. He has few reasons to be thankful for 
mercies, and has found that serving God is not a profitable business : I know 



500 THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 

I can get him to curse God and die." Thus musing, away he flew to the 
sick man's bedside ; and as he listened, he heard the words : " Though I walk 
through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art 
with me : Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me." Mortified and enraged, 
the dragon took his flight. — Christmas Evans. 



THE FEET OF THE PRIESTS STOOD FIRM. 

TAKE up the Ark on your shoulders, 
Priests of the Holy and True ; 
Enter the swelling of Jordan 

And stand — while the host go through. 
Stand — in the bed of the river, 

Where never a foot hath trod, 

And win by your true obedience 

A path for the people of God. 

What though the Lion of Judah 

Float o'er his glittering van — 
What though the strength of the Serpent 

Coil round the standard of Dan, 
Breathes not a Prince nor a Leader 

Could take up your work to-day, 
Nor can win a strand of the Promised Land 

Unless you will guard the way ! 

Not for the mighty ones only, 

Scenting the battle afar, 
Reuben, and Gad, and Manasseh 

Harnessed and ready for war — 
But time must be gained and the road maintained 

For the young and the weak and the slow, 
And not till the last has safely passed 

Will the Priests have leave to go. 

Down through the bed of the river, 

Kept dry by their steadfast feet, 
Tribe after tribe goes over, 

And still the cowed waves retreat. 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 501 



For tho' in their mystical durance ' 
The waters of Jordan may chafe, 

The calm, brave faith, that is strong as death, 
Stands firm — and the flock are safe ! 

O lesson of wondrous meaning ! 

O type of the times to be ! 
O Giver of Grace to Aaron's race, 

Our strength will come from Thee ! 
And our desert years of toils and fears 

May reach a glorious term, 
If bearing the weight of the Church's fate 

The Priests of the Lord stand firm. 



POWER OF INFLUENCE. 

THE stone flung by my careless hand into the lake splashed down into 
the depths, and that was all. No, it was not all. Look at those 
concentric circles, rolling their tiny ripples among the sedgy reeds, dipping 
the overhanging boughs of yonder willow, and producing an influence, slight 
but conscious, to the very shore of the lake. That hasty word, that word of 
pride or scorn, flung from my lips in casual company, produces a momentary 
depression, and that is all. No, it is not all. It deepened that man's disgust 
at godliness; and it sharpened the edge of that man's sarcasm; and it 
shamed that half-converted one out of his penitent misgivings; and it 
produced an influence, slight but eternal, on the destiny of an immortal 
life. Oh ! it is a terrible power that I have — this power of influence ; and it 
clings to me. I can not shake it off. It is born with me ; it has grown with 
my growth, and strengthened with my strength. It speaks, it walks, it 
moves ; it is powerful in every look of my eye, in every word of my lips, in 
every act of my life. I can not live to myself. I must be either a light to 
illumine or a tempest to destroy. — Pans/ion. 



TEN THOUSAND TIMES TEN THOUSAND. 

rEN thousand times ten thousand, 
In sparkling raiment bright, 
The armies of the ransomed saints 
Throng up the steeps of light. 



502 THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 

'Tis finished, all is finished — 
Their fight with death and sin ; 

Fling open wide the golden gates, 
And let the victors in. 

What rush of hallelujahs 

Fills all the earth and sky! 
What ringing of a thousand harps 

Bespeaks the triumph nigh ! 
Oh, day for which creation 

And all its tribes were made ! 
Oh, joy for all its former woes 

A thousand-fold repaid! 

Oh, then what burst of music 

Angelic hosts unite! 
To welcome home the saints of God, 

Returning from the fight. 
They've watched and helped God's children, 

'Mid all their earthly strife, 
Who "more than conquerors" now are crowned 

With everlasting life. 

Then saints and angels joining 

In glorious song of praise; 
The grandest theme, in loftiest notes, 

That " white-robed " choir can raise : 
'Tis Glory Hallelujah! 

To Father and to Son, 
To Holy Ghost— the Comforter, 

Thrice Holy: Three in One. 



GATHERED FRAGMENTS. 

DO not allow the technicalities of religion to stop your salvation. There 
are men who are all the time asking questions, and making discussion 
the refuge of their guilt. They debate in order that they may not decide. 
They have studied redemption, but not the Redeemer ; Christianity, but not 
Christ. Instead of discussing whether the serpent in Eden was figurative 
or literal, or the wars of the Jews, and Jonah, or troubling yourself about 
the difficulties suggested by the book of Revelation, look to Christ ; believe on 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 503 

Him, and take Him as your master and model, and you will not be slow to 
find out that " all Scripture is given by inspiration of God." You may never 
have all your difficulties solved, or all your objections met, but you may plant 
your feet upon the Rock of Ages. The great point with you is not this or 
that doctrine ; not whether )^ou agree or disagree with evangelical Christians. 
The great point is this : Are you at peace with God ? Do you think and 
feel as he wishes you to feel ? Is your soul, is your conscience, is your con- 
duct in harmony with Him ? Hozv do you stand before God? I leave the level 
of faith, and come to that of practice and conduct. Love and repentance 
first ; theology second. 

Table prayer is a plain, Christian duty. Our Lord always gave 
thanks before eating. So did the early Christians. So should we. It is 
one mark of a Christian family. It is confessing Christ before men. It is 
an easy duty. Who cannot say : " Dear Father, we thank Thee for our 
daily bread, and pray Thee bless it to our use ? " 



With silent awe I hail the sacred morn, 

That slowly wakes while all the fields are still ! 
A soothing calm on every, breeze is borne ; 

A graver murmur gurgles from the rill ; 

And echo answers softer from the hill ; 
And softer sings the linnet from the thorn : 

The skylark warbles in a toneless shrill. 
Hail, light serene ! hail, sacred Sabbath morn ! 

The rooks float silent by in airy drove ; 
The sun a placid yellow lustre throws ; 

The gales that lately sighed along the grove 
Have. hushed their downy wings in dead repose , 

The hovering rack of clouds forgets to move — 
So smiled the day when the first morn arose ! 

— Dr. John Leyden. 

We live in deeds, not years ; in thoughts, not breaths ; 
In feelings, not in figures on a dial. 

We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives 
Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best ; 
And he whose heart beats quickest lives the longest — 
Lives in one hour more than in years do some 
Whose fat blood sleeps as it slips along their veins. 



504 THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 



Some find work where some find rest, 

And so the weary world goes on, 
I sometimes wonder which is best, — 

The answer comes when life is gone. 

Some eyes sleep when some eyes wake, 

And so the dreary night-hours go ; 
Some hearts beat where some hearts break. 

I often wonder why 'tis so. 

Some hands fold where other hands 

Are lifted bravely in the strife ; 
And so through ages as through land 

Move on the two extremes of life. 

Some feet halt while some feet tread, 

In tireless march, a thorny way ; 
Some struggle on where some have fled ; 

Some seek, when others shun the fray. 

Some sleep on while others keep 

The vigils of the true and brave ; 
They will not rest till roses creep 

Around a name above a grave. 

'Tis not the wise phylactery, 

Nor stubborn taste, nor stated prayers, 

That makes us saints ; we judge the tree 
By what it bears. 

RELIGION AND TEMPER. 

Religion should influence our temper. If a man be as jealous, 
passionate, revengeful, huffy, sullen, morose, sour, and moody after his 
conversion as before it, what is he converted from or to ? The Christian 
should cherish like an apple of gold a bright, sunny, cheerful temper and 
disposition. 

Be good, and do the most good that you can now and here, and help 
others to be and do the same. Do good with what you have, or it will do 
you no good. Be not simply good ; be good for something. Some of you 
are so good that you are good for nothing. 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 50$ 

THE MOST TROUBLESOME MAN IN CHURCH. 

The most troublesome man in the church is not the rudely outspoken 
one; nor yet the chronic grumbler and objector; nor yet the perpetual 
critic and fault-finder ; nor yet the church gossip ; bad as they are, they are 
not so bad as the man who applies every thoughtless remark, every word 
and deed that is capable of inappreciable interpretation to himself, and who 
is continually being hurt, offended, and insulted. You can scarcely crook 
your finger without giving him offence. He is always on the lookout for 
slights and insults, and takes them when they are neither intended nor 
given. The least little thing throws him off his guard into a whirlwind of 
passion, and he threatens to leave the church. Don't be easily provoked. 
Keep cool. Be slow to take offence. " Soon fire — soon ashes." Forgive 
injuries. Remember, that " To err is human ; to forgive Divine." Be 
merciful, as you expect God to be merciful to you. Show that clemency to 
all men that you expect Christ to show to you. 

CHRONIC OBJECTORS. 

A man, upon making application for membership in an active 
church, being asked what he could do, said : " Well, I am good on objections. 
If anything is proposed, I can object to it." Our churches are full of such 
men and women, who, too lazy to do any work, simply ease their consciences 
by objecting. 

WORK AND DON'T TALK. 

Two laborers were trying to place a stone in position on the 
foundation wall of a new building. A crowd was standing around looking 
on,, and each one offering his criticisms and counsel freely and loudly, but 
not one lifting so much as a finger to help. "That reminds me of church 
work," said one passer-by to another. " Why ?" asked his friend. " Because," 
was the reply, " two men are doing the work and the rest are doing the 
talking." Work or be still. 

Warm and safe in the sheltered fold 

Dark the desert, and bare and cold. 

How shall we follow the Saviour there ? 
" Fasting and alms are the wings of prayer." 

Where shall we find Thee, O Christ most dear ? 
"Down in the valley of holy fear." 

What shall we bring to Thy royal feet ? 



506 THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 

" Penitents' tears are ointment sweet." 

How shall we mourn with Thee, Lord of Light? 
" With cheerful faces and smiles most bright." 

What shall we do for Thee, Lord most dear ? 
"Help my little ones far and near." 

How shall we come to Thee Lord above ? 
"Over the mountain of holy love." 

How shall we rise to Thee, Saviour, there ? 
"Fasting and alms are the wings of prayer." 

— Elizabeth Har court Mitchell. 



The Sundays of man's life 

Threaded together on Time's string 
Make bracelets to adorn the wife 
Of the eternal glorious King. 

On Sunday Heaven's gate stands ope; 
Blessings are plentiful and rife 
More plentiful than hope. 

— George Herbert. 

The Golden Palaee of my God 

Towering above the clouds I see, 
Beyond the Cherub's bright abode, 

Higher than angels' thoughts can be, 
How can I in those courts appear 

Without a Wedding Garment on ? 
Conduct me, Thou Life Giver, then, 

Conduct me to Thy glorious Throne ! 
And clothe me with Thy robes of light, 
And lead me through sin's darksome night, 

My Saviour and my God. 

— From the Russian Anthology. 

The specious sermons of a worldly man, 
Are little more than flashes in the pan : 
The mere haranguing upon what men call 
Morality, is powder without ball : 
But he, who preaches with a Christian grace, 
Fires at our vices, and the shot takes place. 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 507 

Feltham says : " Of all the trees, I observe that God has chosen the 
vine — a low plant that creeps upon the helpful wall ; of all the beasts, the 
soft and pliant lamb ; of all the fowls, the mild and guileless dove. When 
God appeared to Moses, it was not in the lofty cedar, nor in the spreading 
palm, but a bush — an humble, abject bush." 

The bird that soars on highest wing, 

Builds on the ground her lowly nest ; 
And she that doth most sweetly sing, 

Sings in the shade when all things rest; 
In lark and nightingale we see 
What honor hath humility. 

" The saint that wears Heaven's brightest crown, 
In deepest adoration bends ; 
The weight of glory bows him down 

The most when most his soul ascends ; 
Nearest the throne itself must be 
The footstool of humility." 

I have seen a woman, professing to love Christ more than the world, 
clad in a silk dress costing seventy-five dollars ; making-up and trimmings 
of same, forty dollars ; bonnet (or apology for one), thirty-five dollars ; velvet 
mantle, one hundred and fifty dollars; diamond ring, five hundred dollars; 
watch, chain, pin, and other trappings, four hundred and fifty dollars ; total, 
one thousand two hundred and fifty dollars— all hung upon a frail, dying 
woman. I have seen her, at a meeting in behalf of homeless wanderers in 
New York, wipe her eyes upon an expensive embroidered handkerchief at 
the story of their sufferings, and, when the contribution-box came round, 
take from a well-filled portemontiaie, of costly workmanship, twenty-five 
cents to aid the society formed to promote their welfare. "Ah !" thought I, 
" dollars for ribbons, and pennies for Christ." 



TAKING CHEERFUL VIEWS. 

ONE of the divinest secrets of a happy life is the art of extracting 
comfort and sweetness from every circumstance. Some one has said 
that the habit of looking on the bright side is worth a thousand pounds a 
year. It is a wand whose power exceeds that of any fabled conjurer's to 



308 ■ THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 



change all things into blessings. Those who take cheerful views find 
happiness everywhere, and yet how rare is the habit ! The multitude prefer 
to walk on the shady side of the ways of life. One writes of the "luxury of 
woe," and there would seem to be a meaning in the phrase, paradoxical as 
it appears. There are those who take to gloom as a bat to darkness, or as a 
vulture to carrion. They would rather nurse a misery than cherish a joy. 
They always find the dark side of everything, if there is a dark side to be 
found. They appear to be conscientious grumblers, as if it were their duty 
to extract some essence of misery from every circumstance. The weather 
is either too cold or too hot, too wet or too dry. They never find anything 
to their taste. Nothing escapes their criticism. They find fault with the 
food on the table, with the bed in which they lie, with the railroad train or 
steamboat on which they travel, with the Government and its officials, with 
merchant and workman — in a word, with the world at large and in detail. 
They are chronic grumblers. Instead of being content in the state in which 
they are, they have learned to be discontented, no matter how happy their 
lot. If they had been placed in Eden, they would have discovered something 
with which to find fault. Their wretched habit empties life of possible joy 
for them and turns every cup to gall. 

RARE SPIRITS. 

On the other hand, there are rare spirits who always take cheerful 
views of life. They look at the bright side. They find some joy and beauty 
everywhere. If the sky is covered with clouds, they will point out to you 
the splendor of some great cloud-bank, piled up like mountains of glory. 
When the storm rages, instead of fears and complaints they find an exquisite 
pleasure in contemplating its grandeur and majesty. In the most faulty 
picture they see some bit of beauty which charms them. In the most 
disagreeable person they discover some kindly trait or some bud of promise. 
In the most disheartening circumstances they find something for which to 
be thankful, some gleam of cheer breaking in through the thick gloom. 

A RAY OF SUNSHINE. 

When a ray of sunlight streamed through a crack in the shutter and 
made a bright patch on the floor in the darkened room, the little dog rose 
from his dark corner and went and lay down in the one sunny spot ; and 
these people live in the same philosophical way. If there be one beam of 
cheer or hope anywhere in their lot, they will find it. They have a genius 
for happiness. They always make the best out of circumstances. They are 
happy as travellers. They are contented as boarders. Their good nature 
never fails. They take a cheerful view of every perplexity. Even in sorrow 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 509 

their faces are illumined, and songs come from the chambers where they 
weep. Such persons have a wondrous ministry in this world. They are 
like apple-trees when covered with blossoms, pouring sweetness all about 
them. 

It may be worth while to linger a little on the philosophy of living 
which produces such results. Some people are born with sunny dispositions, 
with large hopefulness and joyfulness, and with eyes for the bright side of 
life. Others are naturally disposed to gloom. Dyspepsia or a disordered 
liver is responsible for much bad temper, low spirits and melancholy ; and 
yet, while there is this predisposition in temperament on the one hand 
towards hopefulness, and on the other towards depression and gloom, it is 
still largely a matter of culture and habit, for which we are individually 
responsible. 

IMPORTANT PART OF CHRISTIAN CULTURE. 

This is clearly a most important part of Christian culture. Joyfulness 
is everywhere commended as a Christian duty. Discontent is a most 
destestable fault. Morbidness is a sin. Fretfulness grieves God. It tells 
of unbelief. It destroys the soul's peace. It disfigures the beauty of 
Christian character. It not only makes us soured and unhappy in our own 
hearts, but its influence on others is bad. Our ministry is to be ever towards 
joy. 

There is nothing so depressing in its effects upon others as morbid- 
ness, hence, for the sake of those among whom we live and upon whose 
lives we are for ever unconsciously either casting shadows or pouring 
sunshine, we should seek to learn this Christian art of contentment. 

What are some of the elements of this divine philosophy of living ? 

One is patient submission to ills and hardships which are unavoidable. 
No lot is perfect. No mortal ever yet found a set of circumstances without 
some unpleasant feature. Sometimes it is in our power to modify the 
discomforts. Our trouble is often of our own making. Much of it needs 
only a little energetic activity on our part to remove it. We are fools if we 
live on amid ills and hardships which a reasonable industry would change 
to comforts, or even pleasures. 

INEVITABLE ILLS. 

But if there are inevitable ills or burdens which we can not by any 
energy of our own remove or lighten, they must be submitted to without 
murmuring. We have a saying that " What can not be cured must be 
endured." But the very phrasing tells of an unyielding heart. There is 
submission to the inevitable, but no reconciliation. True contentment does 
not chafe under disappointments and losses, but accepts them, becomes 



510 THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 

reconciled to them, ar J :.t once looks about to find something- good in them. 
This is the secret of happy living. And when we come to think of it, how 
senseless it is to struggle against the inevitable ! Discontent helps nothing. 
It never removes a hardship, or makes a burden any lighter, or brings back 
a vanished pleasure. One never feels better for complaining. One bird 
in a cage struggles against its fate, flies against the wire walls, and beats 
upon them in efforts to be free till its breast and wings are all bruised and 
bleeding. Another bird shut in accepts the restraint, perches itself upon 
its bar and sings. Surely the canary is wiser than the starling. We would 
get far along toward contentment if we ceased to waste time dreaming over 
unattainable earthly good. Only a few people can be great or rich; the 
mass must always remain in ordinary circumstances. Suppose all our forty 
millions were millionaires, who could be found to do the work that must be 
done ? Or suppose all were great poets. Imagine forty million people in 
one country writing poetry ! Who would write the prose ? A little serious 
reflection will show that the world needs only a few great and conspicuous 
lives, while it needs millions for its varied industries, its plain duties, its 
hard toil. 

DISCONTENT ARISING FROM ENVY. 

And yet a large amount of our discontent arises from our envy of 
those who have what we have not. There are many who lose all the 
comfort of their own lives in coveting the better things that some ether 
one possesses. 

There are several considerations that ought to modify this miserable 
feeling which brings so much bitterness. If we could know the secret 
history of the life that we envy for its splendor and prosperity, perhaps we 
would not exchange for it our lowlier life with its homely circumstances. 
Certain it is that contentment is not so apt to dwell in palaces or on thrones 
as in the homes of the humble. The tall peaks rise nearer the skies, but the 
winds smite them more fiercely. 

HIDING ONE TALENT 

Then why should I hide my one talent in the earth because it is not 
ten ? Why should I make my life a failure in the place allotted to me, 
while I sit down and dream over unattainable things ? Why should I miss 
my one golden opportunity, however small, while I envy some other one 
what seems his greater opportunity ? Countless people make themselves 
wretched by vainly trying to grasp far-away joys, while they leave untouched 
and despised the numberless little joys and bright bits of happiness which 
lie close to their hand. As' one has written, " Stretching out his hand to 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 511 

catch the stars, man forgets the flowers at his feet, so beautiful, so fragrant, 
so multitudinous and so various." The secret of happiness lies in extracting 
pleasure from the things we have, while we enter no mad, vain chase after 
impossible fancies. 

Another way to train ourselves to cheerful views of life is resolutely 
to refuse to be frightened at shadows, or to see trouble where there is none. 
Half, or more, of the things that most worry us have no existence save in a 
disordered fancy. Many things that in the dim distance look like shapes of 
peril, when we draw near to them, melt into harmless shadows, or even 
change into forms of friendliness. Much of the gloomy tinge that many 
people see on everything is caused by the color of the glasses through which 
they look. We sit behind our blue-glass windows, and we wonder what 
makes everything blue. 

We can do much toward curing ourselves of fretting and worrying by 
refusing to be fooled by a foreboding imagination. 

Then we need to learn ever to make the best of things. 

CLOUDY DAYS. 

There will always be cloudy days. No one can live without meeting 
discomforts, disappointments, and hardships. No wisdom, no industry of 
ours can eliminate from our experience all that is disagreeable or painful. 
But shall we allow the one discordant note in the grand symphony to mar 
for us all the noble music ? Shall we permit the one discomfort in our 
home to cast a cloud over all its pleasures and embitter all its joys? Shall 
we not seek for the bright side? There is really sunshine enough in the 
darkest day to make any ordinary mortal happy if he has eyes to see it. It 
is marvellous what a trifling thing will give joy to a truly grateful heart. 
Mungo Park in the bleak desert found the greatest delight in a single tuft 
of moss growing in the sand. It saved him from despair and from death 
and filled his soul with joy and hope. There is no lot in life so dreary that 
it has not at least its one little patch of beauty or its one wee flower looking 
up out of the dreariness, like a smile of God. 

BRIGHTNESS IN THE CLOUDS. 

Even if the natural eye can see no brightness in the cloud, the 
faith of the Christian knows that there is good in everything for the child 
of God. There are reasons, no doubt, why no perfect happiness can be 
found in this world. If there were no thorns in our pillow here, should we 
care to pillow our heads on the bosom of Divine love ? Our Father makes 
the nest rough to drive us to seek the warmer, softer nest prepared for us in 
His own love. 



512 THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 

To each one who is truly in Christ and who really loves God there is 
a promise of good out of all things. There is a wondrous alchemy in the 
Divine providence that out of the commingling of life's strange element 
always produces blessing. Thus faith's vision sees good in all things, 
however dark they may appear, and ill in nothing. We need but living 
faith in God to enable us to take a cheerful view of any experience. 

There is another purely Christian element in the culture of content- 
ment which must not be overlooked. The more the heart becomes engaged 
with God and its affections enchained about him, the less is it disturbed by 
the little roughnesses and hardships of earth. 

THINGS THAT FRET CHILDHOOD 

have no power to break the peace of manhood. As we grow into higher 
spiritual manhood and become more and more filled with Christ we shall 
rise above the power of earth's discontents. We shall be happy even amid 
trials and losses, amid discomforts and disappointments, because our life is 
hid with Christ in God and we have meat to eat of which the world knows 
not. 

Thus we may train ourselves away from all gloomy and despondent 
habits and experiences towards cheerfulness and hope. The lesson, well 
learned, will repay the sorest discipline. It will bring some new pleasure into 
every moment. It will paint beauty for us on the dreariest desert. It will 
plant flowers for us along every steep and rugged road. It will bring music 
for us out of every sighing wind and wailing storm. It will fill the darkest 
night with starbeams. It will make us sunny-hearted Christians, pleasing 
God and blessing the world. — J. R. Miller. 



THE SUFFICIENCY OF CHRIST TO RENDER US KAPPY. 

THE glory of Christ appears in His fulness of joy to render us happy. It 
was the opinion of Robert Hall that, when the Scriptures call Jehovah 
the blessed God, they mean He is the happy God. He is clearly revealed as 
the only great fountain of blessedness. Said Ezra to the afflicted Jews : 
" Neither be ye sorry, for the joy of the Lord is your strength." Said David : 
" In Thy presence is fulness of joy, and at Thy right hand there are pleasures 
forevermore." Jesus said : " My peace I give unto you." And as the final 
Judge He will say, at the last day : "Well done, good and faithful servant; 
enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." One of the expressive titles which 
the ancient Hebrews gave to God was " Shadah," which signified " the 
pourer or shedder forth of blessings." It seemed to represent Him. as the 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 513 

great Reservoir on the top of the universe, pouring out streams of blessed- 
ness to all worlds. Angels are not happy, and men are not happ}', unless 
they share in the happiness of Him who is God over all, blessed forever. 
With Him is the fountain of life, and there is not a rill, not a drop, of bliss 
in the universe which that fountain does not yield. They who go elsewhere 
for happiness wander into boundless deserts, where all is drought and 
burning winds and vast desolation. As well may an angel expect to find 
happiness in children's toys, or a philosopher in blowing bubbles, as for 
man's great soul to expect to find an adequate bliss anywhere out of God. 
But in God there is everything to satisfy and transport the immortal mind. 
The joy of the soul, the same that fills the Eternal mind, is the only joy that 
meets the desires and exigencies of the immortal soul. The blessedness 
that Jesus Christ has and imparts to His disciples is permanent, strengthening, 
ennobling, and satisfying. It makes the soul erect, resolute, persevering, 
cheerful, and strong The peace that Jesus has and gives is independent of 
the changes of time, unaffected by the diseases of the body, uninjured by 
death, and untouched by the fires of the last day. 

HOW HE GLORIFIES HIMSELF. 

See how He glorifies Himself, and renders strongly happy His people 
by giving them His joy as they need and' can receive it. What dresses the 
face of the young convert with such radiant smiles ? Why is all within him 
peace, and all before him transport ? Because, when he was forgiven, Christ 
let into his soul a rill of His joy. What makes that bed-ridden, suffering 
saint, when all creature-comforts are dried up, so serene, calm, and bright ? 
It is the joy of the Lord. What is it that lifts the dying saint above the 
fear of death, softens the dying-bed, and strews it all over with the roses of 
Paradise ? It is the joy of Christ. And what is it that rolls a tide of rapture 
over the world of glory, that makes Heaven Heaven ? 

AN INEXHAUSTIBLE FULNESS OF JOY. 

It is because the saints above have entered more fully into the joy 
of the Lord, and the joy of the Lord has entered more fully into them, than 
their capacities would permit them to receive when on earth. Indeed, there 
is not a good man on earth or in Heaven that does not derive all his true 
joys from Christ. Millions of His saints in all parts of the earth are 
constantly asking and receiving from Him joys that cheer and strengthen 
them in the house of their pilgrimage. Some of them are poor, some of 
them sick, some of them tempted, some of them dying, yet to each and to 
all He imparts a joy that impels to duty, sustains in affliction and cheers in 
toil. And while He is thus imparting true happiness to millions of His 



514 THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 

redeemed on earth, He is pouring a flood of glory and felicity into the 
untold millions of His servants in Heaven, filling them to overflowing with 
the fulness of His joy. 

If there is such an inexhaustible fulness of joy in Christ, and He is 
delighted and glorified in imparting His joy to His people, then it follows 
that it is not only our privilege, but our duty to be happy in Christ. 
Christianity, rightly understood, not only authorizes and allows, but 
commands us to be happy. And it is greatly important that we more 
clearly understand and fully verify this feature of our Saviour's character. 
The world's conversion has been greatly hindered from our not making a 
fuller test of Christ's efficiency and sufficiency to justify and sanctify us ; 
and it may be well questioned whether the cause of Christ has not been 
greatly retarded from our not having received a greater measure of His joy. 
The command of God is, " Rejoice in the Lord alway," 

AND NO MAN CAN TELL HOW 

many immortal souls have gone into an undone eternity in consequence of 
its not having been fulfilled by the people of Christ. The salvation of the 
world lingers from the want of holy joy among the disciples of Christ. A 
great many professed Christians have practically declared their religion to 
be a gloomy thing by going to the world itself for pleasure. All men seek 
happiness, and when they behold the followers of Christ appearing less 
happy in serving the Lord than they did in sin, they are confirmed in the 
prejudice that religion is a mopish, melancholy thing, and thereby many 
are kept from embracing it. The glory of Christ, then, in the triumph of 
His Gospel, demands that every friend of Christ should be not only a 
conscientious, devout, and liberal, but also a happy Christian. He owes it 
to the cause of Christ, to himself, to his family, his brethren, and the world 
of mankind, to live a serene, cheerful, happy life. When all who name the 
Name of Christ shall be examples and reflectors of the joy of Christ, then 
Christianity will spread with primitive speed. 



THE DUTY OF JOYFULNESS. 

BUT is it practicable to be always joyful ? Says one, " I would, but cannot 
be happy." But if God makes it your duty to be always joyful, 
under all circumstances, then the requirement is reasonable, and the 
fulfilment practicable. It is admitted that the Christian can not be happy 
without good cause to be joyful. God does not require His people to rejoice 
without affording them an adequate object to render them supremely and 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 515 

perpetually joyful. What is it He requires us to rejoice in? In the world, 
its profits, its honors, its pleasures, its friendships ? Not in these. His 
-command is, " Rejoice in the Lord Jesus!' And is He not an adequate object 
to rejoice in ? Is He not enough in Himself? Has He not done enough for 
you and said enough to you to induce you, as your most reasonable every- 
day practice, to be joyful? All Christians have some causes for sadness, but 
they have in Christ far greater causes for gladness. This is the reason why 
they should rejoice even in their sorrows ; for however great and multiplied 
their causes for sorrow, their causes for joy far transcend those for sorrow. 
The most reduced, afflicted saint that Christ has on earth has in his Saviour 
ten thousand stronger grounds for being happy than he has to be unhappy. 
It is not so with the rejecter of Christ. He, amid the best surroundings of 
earth, has far more reasons for being unhappy than he has to be happy. 
But when the Christian is most reduced, he has in his Saviour far more and 
better blessings than he has lost. 

GLOOM MISREPRESENTS RELIGION. 

The point of our reasoning is this. If we have a Saviour who has in 
Himself such resources of blessedness, and if He is infinitely able and 
willing to impart all needed supplies of that blessedness to us, and if by our 
want of this joy we become gloomy, and thereby misrepresent His religion, 
repel from it the ungodly, and dishonor His name, then is not unhappiness in 
us a sin, and is not joyfulness in Christ our bounden duty? Do, then, 
Christian brother, live up to your duty, and appreciate your precious 
privilege in this regard. Take down your harp from the willows and begin 
the raptured song. As you walk on to the grave, let all the country around 
be charmed and won by your sacred melody ; and let your songs of 
gladness die away from mortal ears only to burst in new and louder tones 
on the ear of Heaven. In this way, Christ will be glorified in you more than 
He is by all that shines above and blooms beneath. In your joyfulness 
Christ's joy will be more fully realized and His glory more fully displayed. — 
Cornelius Tyree. 



A GREEN OLD AGE. 

THE Bible ever speaks with great delicacy and tenderness of this latter 
stage of life. The Levitical law ran thus : " Thou shalt rise up before 
the hoary head, and honor the face of the old man, and fear thy God ; I am 
the Lord." And again, " The hoary head is a crown of glory if it be found 
in the way of righteousness. " " They shall still bring forth fruit in old age ; 
they shall be flourishing and green." The imagery is that drawn from the 



516 THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 



palm tree, a very conspicuous object in the scenery of Palestine. It is a 
tall and beautiful tree, erect and graceful. It is very flourishing, abounding 
in springs and water-courses. It is an evergreen, not faded by the winter's 
cold and not drooping under the burning sun of summer. It lives to a 
green old age, flourishing for more than a thousand years, furnishing a 
grateful shade to the traveller and yielding a very valuable timber for 
architecture. It is also fruitful, bearing its golden clusters of dates from 
generation to generation. It literally " brings forth fruit in old age." No 
more appropriate and beautiful symbol, then, could the Psalmist have 
selected than the palm tree to illustrate a green and vigorous, a happy and 
useful old age. 

A CHEERFUL DISPOSITION. 

Let us ask how old. age may be made thus green and flourishing. 
First, by a tranquil, cheerful disposition. It is true, the limbs are not as active 
and the spirit not as buoyant as in youth, and often there are growing 
burdens of infirmity to carry ; still, there are many things that conspire to 
give age a brighter side. It is those who fall young who command our 
sympathies. But none have drunk so deeply of the full cup of human joys 
as those who have made the whole round of life. Length of days is in 
itself one of the very greatest blessings. " That thy days may be long upon 
the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee," is the first promise attached 
to a commandment. The old have much to be thankful for. Unusual have 
been the privileges granted them. Numerous and special have been the 
providences guiding and preserving them through so many vicissitudes. 
Many are the bright and golden isles of memory gladdening the river of the 
past, ever refreshing and enlivening their thoughts as it rises to their view, 
causing them to live the happy days over again. And if by industry and 
success they have laid aside an adequacy of support, they can be free from 
anxiety and perplexity of mind. Said Henry Ward Beecher: "It is not 
work that wears men out prematurely, it is worry. Work is healthy ; you 
can hardly put more on a man than he can bear. 

WORRY IS THE RUST ON THE BLADE. 

It is not the revolution that destroys the machinery, but the 
friction." And so old age should be tranquil and cheerful. The uproar of 
passion calmed, and raised by mature experience above the senseless strife 
of the bustling crowd, in gentle peace the old can enjoy life's setting day, 
even as the tranquil splendors of a sunset have far more of a spiritual 
and supernal beauty than the sun's fiery glory at noon. 

Old age, grasping, miserly, careworn, feverish with life's petty strifes 
and marked by the follies of youth, is indeed distressing and pitiable to see. 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 517 

But when it is what it should be — calm, temperate, wise, serene, and cheerful 
— nothing is more winning : 

" When it is that peaceful shore, where passion dies, away 
Like the last wave that ripples on the bay, 
O, if old age were cancelled from our lot, 
Full soon would man deplore the unhallowed blot, 
Life's busy day would want its tranquil noon, 
And earth would lose her stepping-stone to Heaven." 

But again, to have a " green old age " we should keep as far as 
possible in aciive sympathy with life. The charm of living is activity, 
exertion, work, keeping busy. Then alone are the hours not irksome and 
does time fly along on eager wing when we are thus engaged. And no 
greater mistake do the elderly make than that of a premature retirement 
from the active occupations of life. Many business men above three-score 
and ten are still almost as energetic and regular as ever in their tasks. 
Many authors have done their best work in their latest years. 

The mind, too, if kept vigorous by exercise, does not age with the 
body. There is no reason why the mental faculties may not be kept young 
and keen. Reading, accordingly, is well adapted to this season of life. 
Where the taste for good books and useful knowledge has been cultivated, 
it will provide a delightful companionship, furnishing an inexhaustible 
Bource of pleasure. 

Where, too, old people are fond of the society of the young, enter into 
their ideas and sympathies and keep themselves in living touch with the 
times, they will not grow taciturn, or be left solitary. "Children's children 
are the crown of old men ; and the glory of children are their fathers," 
cay the Scriptures. 

Shakespeare speaks of — 

" That which should accompany old age, 
As honor, love, obedience, troops of friends." 

The young owe love, respect and tender regard to the old, and can 
learn from their stores of experience the best and sweetest of lessons, fitting 
them for happiness and success in life. And so, on the other hand, nothing 
presents a more attractive scene than to see the old in the midst of a family 
group of youth or little ones, whose manly strength sustains and cheers them 
or whose childish sports and loving embraces renew their youth and make 
them live over their early years once more. Much of the secret of 
undecaying vivacity and cheerfulness with the lapse of j'ears thus depends 
upon keeping the sympathies alive and in responsive accord with the persons 
and things most active in the moving drama of life. 



518 THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 

But further, what makes a "green old age " is faith, piety, trust in God. 
Infidelity casts the gloomiest of shadows over declining years. But if we 
are " sustained and soothed by an unfaltering trust," as the poet Bryant 
expresses it, a drapery of undying hope will wrap its beauteous tints about 
us. Faith in God our Father— faith in an immortal life, faith in the 
Christian religion — is that power which, then, will renew and keep green and 
undecaying our heart and life. 

FLOURISH LIKE THE PALM TREE. 

" The righteous shall flourish like the palm tree. Those that be 
planted in the House of the Lord shall flourish in the courts of our God. 
They shall still bring forth fruit in old age. They shall be fat and green." 
It is the "righteous" and " those that be planted in the house of the Lord" 
that are thus to keep their vitality and fruitfulness. The phrase " planted in 
the house of the Lord," alludes to the Oriental custom of planting the most 
beautiful and long-lived trees within the courts of temples and palaces. 
This was done for ornamentation, as Solomon " carved all the walls of the 
Holy of Holies round about with palm trees." But at the same time the 
trees thus sheltered preserved their freshness and fruit-bearing to a great age. 

And thus is it, that old persons who are " planted in the House of the 
Lord," whose roots are struck into the soil of faith, and whose lives grow 
within the vineyard of the Lord, are laurelled with the leaves of hope, and 
laden with the fruits of usefulness. With such, nature may decay, but the 
fountains and stores of grace will not fail. Of such it will be exemplified, 
as says the pious German writer Tholuck : " Experience shows us that pious 
old people are the most powerful and efficient witnesses and preachers to 
younger generations, in whom piety bears the sweetest fruit the nearer they 
are to the grave." The sight of an old tree laden with blossoms and bending 
with golden fruit is especially pleasing, and so, no sight is more lovely and 
more encouraging to young people than when we see persons such as 
Whittier speaks of — 

" With kindly hand, and steadfast will, 
In old age as in youth, 
Their Master finds them sowing still 
The good seed of His truth." 

Piety, then, above all keeps alive a youthful glow in the soul, and 
causes that still bringing forth fruit in old age — " those sweet deeds of 
kindliness and goodness " which we see in many elderly Christian men and 
women, and which give to that autumnal season of life a moral beauty not 
surpassed by the green and flowery loveliness of life's spring. 



THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 519 



Life, too, is not determined by years, or ages, but by usefulness. Those 
lives which " bear fruit in old age " are the truly young. Deeds of 
beneficence cause life to be " ever green." Where the old, by their influence 
and their benefactions, are sowing the seeds of usefulness, they are making 
themselves immortal. A noble work of philanthropy, or some useful service 
done to religion, will perpetuate their existence on the earth. And such 
generous and pious deeds are especially becoming to those who are standing 
in the halo of life's sunset. These truly make a " green " and deathless old 
age. In the truest sense of the word, such a one always lives. Even though 
called from this mortal sphere, the tree of usefulness he planted is still green 
and covered with immortal blossoms. He yet abides on earth in the power 
of a blessed life and of liberal benefactions, which will be fruitful and grow- 
ing through all generations. 

TWO WAYS OF GROWING OLD. 

There are two ways of growing old, the lovely and the unlovely, the 
attractive and the repulsive, the one taught here by the Psalmist and the 
way followed by the unchristian world. It is a sad fact that we find too 
many instances of the latter, and too few of the former, and yet it is one for 
whose explanation we need not travel far. It is, as a rule, simply a matter 
of hopes and affections limited to this world, or centred beyond it. "A 
morose, dissatisfied and querulous old age, one that manifests no sympathy 
with that young life before which the future lies so unstained and beautiful, 
and that would rather hold before it a skeleton than a flower ; a life that 
clutches at the world of vanity and fashion all the more eagerly as its grasp 
becomes the more nerveless, and that seems to think it has no higher ends 
than to minister to its own good and selfishness, is an old age repulsive to 
man and displeasing to God !" 

AN OLD AGE AT WHOSE FEET CHILDREN LOVE TO SIT. 

But there is an old age at whose feet children love to sit, and into 
whose face they love to look, because they always see there perpetual 
sympathy and sunshine : an old age that has no regrets and sheds no tears 
over that departure of days which has brought it nearer to the beginning of 
a higher and unfading life, and which is brighter, more cheerful, more lovely 
and more loved as there rolls past it a world which it has tried to make 
better. The contrast is impressive and instructive. While this art of 
growing old gracefully is fully taught in the school of Christ, too many 
professed scholars in that school fail to profit by its teachings. 

Perhaps no one has more beautifully illustrated this green old age of 
our text than the pious poet, Longfellow. His biographer says of him that 



520 THE SPIRITUAL LIFE. 

what cheered his old age was "the satisfaction he found in the Christian 
view of life." His finest poems were his last, one of the most exquisite 
being published in his seventy-fifth year. A man in intellect and courage, 
a woman in sensibility and tenderness, a saint in purity of life, yet without 
asceticism ; a loving husband, a judicious father, a trusty friend, a useful 
citizen, he presented a thoroughly healthy, harmonious, well-balanced nature, 
accepting life as it came with all its joys and sorrows, and living it beauti- 
fully and hopefully, without canker and without uncharity, retaining his 
sunny and genial disposition to the very last. 

Assuredly, where old age is thus sweetly and cheerily spent, it is not 
to be looked forward to with misgiving, or to be passed with regret. But 
rather it is to be regarded as the full-ripened fruit of the tree of life, the 
natural and fitting prelude to existence in the realm of youth eternal. 

ILLUSTRATIONS OF LOVABLE OLD AGE. 

And who of us does not know, among the circle of our friends or 
relatives, just such beautiful illustrations of genial and lovable old age as 
that we have here portrayed? Wise in counsel, pure in heart as the sunbeam ; 
gentle and kindly in manner; full of unselfish deeds and offices; a charm 
and a glory shine about their snowy locks, such as at once win our love and 
command our reverence. 

Of how many fathers and mothers thus, " Whose days are in the sere 
and yellow leaf," it may be truly said : 

" If all their good deeds were flowers, the air would be faint with 
perfume. If all their charities could be changed to melodies, a symphony 
would fill the sky." 

To have such a serene and sunny old age as this may well be the 
crown of human aspiration. But to secure it the beginning must be laid in 
youth. When early years are wasted in folly, and manly vigor is frittered 
away in dissipation, and the breakers of life's eventide are reached with but 
the shattered hulk of health, there we can only look for pain, sorrow and 
self-reproach. Every youthful excess is a draft on the bank of old age, every 
evil habit now indulged sows the seeds of coming pain, and every storm of 
passion projects its shadow into our future. 

So, then, let us live in virtue, tranquillity of temper, sympathy with 
all around us, faith in God, and active deeds of beneficence, that, if happily 
spared to that period, our old age may be "green and flourishing," cheered 
by a satisfactory retrospect of our past, by a consciousness that our 
continuing good works will leave behind us on earth an immortality of 
usefulness, and by the certainty that before us is in waiting an immortality 
of joy and glory.—/. D. Reimensnyder. 




uturs 






THE FUTURE LIFE. 



T 



RESIGNATION. 

HERE is no flock, however watched and tended, 

But one dead lamb is there ! 
There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, 

But has one vacant chair ! 

The air is full of farewells to the dying 

And mournings for the dead ; 
The heart of Rachel, for her children crying, 

Will not be comforted ! 

Let us be patient ! These severe afflictions 

Not from the ground arise, 
But oftentimes celestial benedictions 

Assume this dark disguise. 

We see but dimly through the mists and vapors 

Amid these earthly damps 
What seem to us but sad, funereal tapers 

May be Heaven's distant lamps. 

There is no Death ! What seems so is transition : 

This life of mortal breath 
Is but a suburb of the life elysian, 

Whose portal we call Death. 

She is not dead, — the child of our affection, — 

But gone unto that school 
Where she no longer needs our poor protection, 

And Christ Himself doth rule. 

In that great cloister's stillness and seclusion, 

By guardian angels led, 
Safe from temptation, safe from sin's pollution, 

She lives whom we call dead. 

5 2 3 



52 4 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



Day after day we think what she is doing 

In those bright realms of air; 
Year after year, her tender steps pursuing, 

Behold her grown more fair. 

Thus do we walk with her, and keep unbroken 

The bond which Nature gives, 
Thinking that our remembrance, though unspoken, 

May reach her where she lives. 

Not as a child shall we again behold her; 

For when with raptures wild 
In our embraces we again enfold her, 

She will not be a child : 

But a fair maiden, in her Father's mansion, 

Clothed with celestial grace ; 
And beautiful with all the soul's expansion 

Shall we behold her face. 

And though, at times, impetuous with emotion 

And anguish long suppressed, 
The swelling heart heaves moaning like the ocean, 

That cannot be at rest, — 

We will be patient, and assuage the feeling 

We may not wholly stay; 
By silence sanctifying, not concealing 

The grief that must have way. 

— Longfellow. 



SUNSHINE FOR THE SORROWING. 

AMONG the readers of this there must be many who "wear mourning." 
Every minister, as he runs his eye over his congregation, sees the 
black badge of sorrow in every part of the house. Yet many of the deepest 
and sorest griefs of the heart do not hoist any outward signal of distress. 
For who ever puts on crape for a family disgrace, or a secret heartache, or 
loss of character, or an acute contrition for sin, or a backsliding from Christ? 
Set it down as a fact that God sees ten-fold more sorrow than the human 
eye ever detects. 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 



525 



What a clear streak of sunshine our Lord let into this region of 
sorrowing hearts when he pronounced that wonderful benediction : " Blessed 
are they that mourn ! " Perhaps some poor Galilean mother who came up 
that day to hear Jesus of Nazareth, with her eyes red from weeping over a 
lost child, whispered to herself: "That is for me; I am a mourner." "Ah!" 
thought some penitent sinner who felt the plague of his guilty heart, "that 
means me ; I am in trouble to-day." It did mean them. Christ's religion is 
the first and only religion ever known in this world which recognizes human 
sorrow, and has any sunshine of consolation for broken hearts. Do cold- 
blooded infidels realize that fact when they attempt to destroy men's faith 
in the Gospel of Calvary? 

THIS SWEET LITTLE TEXT. 

We are apt to limit this benediction of Jesus to one class of sufferers. 
We take this sweet little text into sick-rooms, or to funerals, or into the 
lonely group which gathers around a mother's deserted chair or a little 
empty crib. It was meant for them. It has fallen upon such stricken 
hearts like the gentle rain upon the new-mown grass. Many of us know 
full well how good the balm felt when it touched our bruised and bleeding 
hearts. I remember how, when one of my own " bairns " was lying in his 
fresh-made grave, and another one was so low that his crib seemed to touch 
against a tomb, I used to keep murmuring over to myself Wesley's 
matchless lines: 

" Leave, oh leave me not alone, 
Still support and comfort me ! " 

In those days I was learning (what we pastors have to learn) just 
how the arrow feels when it enters, and just how to sympathize with our 
people in their bereavements. Somehow a minister is never fully ready to 
emit the fragrance of sympathy for others until he has been bruised 
himself. There is a great lack about all Christians who have never suffered. 
Paul abounded in consolation because he had known sharp tribulations in 
his own experience. What a precious spilling of 

HIS GREAT SYMPATHETIC HEART 

that was when he overflowed into that sublime passage which ends 
the fourth and begins the fifth chapter of his Epistle to the Corinthians. 
The outward man perishing — the inward man renewed day by day. The 
affliction growing "light" in proportion to the transcendent weight of the 
eternal glory! The old tent dropping to pieces and the heavenly mansion 
looming up so gloriously that his homesick soul longed to quit the fluttering 



326 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

tent, and to "be present with the Lord." These are, indeed, mighty 
consolations to bear with us into our houses of mourning. They are the 
foretastes which make us long for the full feast and the seraphic joys of the 
marriage-supper of the Lamb. We experience what the old godly negro, 
" Uncle Johnson," did when he said: "Oh, yes, massa, I feel bery lonesome 
since my Ellen died, but den de Lord comes round ebery day and gibs me 
a taste ob de kingdom, jus' as a nus would wid de spoon; but oh, how I wants 
to get hold ob de whole dish ! " — T. L. Cuyler. 



THE INQUIRY. 

TELL me, ye winged winds, that round my pathway roar, 
Do ye not know some spot where mortals weep no more ? 
Some lone and pleasant dell, some valley in the west, 
Where, free from toil and pain, the weary soul may rest? 
The loud wind dwindled to a whisper low, 
And sigh'd for pity as it answer'd — "No." 

Tell me, thou mighty deep, whose billows round me play, 
Know'st thou some favor'd spot, some island far away, 
Where weary man may find the bliss for which he sighs — 
Where sorrow never lives, and friendship never dies? 
The loud waves, rolling in perpetual flow, 
Stopp'd for awhile, and sigh'd to answer — "No." 

And thou, serenest moon, that, with such a lovely face, 

Dost look upon the earth, asleep in night's embrace ; 

Tell me, in all thy round, hast thou not seen some spot, 

Where miserable man might find a happier lot? 
Behind a cloud the moon withdrew in woe, 
And a voice, sweet, but sad, responded — "No." 

Tell me, my secret soul; — oh! tell me, Hope and Faith, 
Is there no resting-place from sorrow, sin, and death ? 
Is there no happy spot, where mortals may be bless'd, 
Where grief may find a balm, and wearinsss a rest? 

Faith, Hope, and Love, best boons to mortals given, 
Waved their bright wings, and whisper'd— " Yes, IN Heaven!' 

— Charles Mack ay. 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 



27 



IMMORTALITY. 

IF we wholly perish with the body, what an imposture is this whole system 
of laws, manners, and usages on which human society is founded ! If 
we wholly perish with the body, these maxims of charity, patience, justice, 
honor, gratitude, and friendship, which sages have taught and good men 
have practised, what are they but empty words, possessing no real and 
binding efficacy ? Why should we heed them, if in this life only we have 
hope ? Speak not of duty. What can we owe to the dead, to the living, 
to ourselves, if all are or will be, nothing ? Who shall dictate our duty, if 
not our own pleasures, — if not our own passions ? Speak not of morality. 
It is a mere chimera, a bugbear of human invention, if retribution termi- 
nate with the grave. 

THE SWEET TIES OF KINDRED. 

If we must wholly perish, what to us are the sweet ties of kindred? 
What the tender names of parent, child, sister, brother, husband, wife, or 
friend? The characters of a drama are not more illusive. We have no 
ancestors, no descendants; since succession can not be predicated of 
nothingness. Would we honor the illustrious dead? How absurd to honor 
that which has no existence ! Would we take thought for posterity ? How 
frivolous to concern ourselves for those whose end, like our own, must soon 
be annihilation ! Have we made a promise ? How can it bind nothing to 
nothing? Perjury is but a jest. The last injunctions of the dying, what 
sanctity have they, more than the last sound of a chord that is snapped, of 
an instrument that is broken ? 

THE SUMMING UP. 

To sum up all: If we must wholly perish, then is obedience to the 
laws but an insane servitude ; rulers and magistrates are but the phantoms 
which popular imbecility has raised up; justice is an unwarrantable 
infringement upon the liberty of men, — an imposition, a usurpation ; the 
law of marriage is a vain scruple; modesty a prejudice; honor and probity, 
such stuff as dreams are made of ; and incests, murders, parricides, the most 
heartless cruelties and the blackest crimes, are but the legitimate sports of 
man's irresponsible nature ; while the harsh epithets attached to them are 
merely such as the policy of legislators has invented, and imposed upon the 
credulity of the people. 

Here is the issue to which the vaunted philosophy of unbelievers 
must inevitably lead. Here is that social felicity, that sway of reason, that 
emancipation from error, of which they eternally prate, as the fruit of their 
doctrines. Accept their maxims, and the whole world falls back into a 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 



frightful chaos; and r'l the relations of life are confounded; and all ideas 
of vice and virtue are reversed ; and the most inviolable laws of society 
vanish ; and all moral discipline perishes ; and the government of states and 
nations has no longer any cement to uphold it, and all the harmony of the 
body politic becomes discord ; and the human race is no more than an assem- 
blage of reckless barbarians, shameless, remorseless, brutal, denaturalized, 
with no other law than force, no other check than passion, no other bond than 
irreligion, no other God than self ! Such would be the world which impiety 
would make. Such would be this world, were a belief in God and immor- 
tality to die out of the human heart. — Massillon. 



IN TRIAL. 



w 



HEN gathering clouds around I view, 
And days are dark and friends are few, 
On Him I lean who not in vain 
Experienced every human pain ; 
He sees my wants, allays my fears, 
And counts and treasures up my tears. 

If aught should tempt my soul to stray 

From heavenly wisdom's narrow way, 

To fly the good I would pursue, 

Or do the sin I would not do, 

Still He who felt temptation's power 

Shall guard me in that dangerous hour. 

When sorrowing o'er some stone I bend, 
Which covers what was once a friend, 
And from his voice, his hand, his smile, 
Divides me for a little while, 
Thou, Saviour, mark'st the tears I shed, 
For Thou didst weep o'er Lazarus dead ! 

And O, when I have safely passed 
Through every conflict but the last, 
Still, still unchanging, watch beside 
My painful bed, for Thou hast died ; 
Then point to realms of cloudless day, 
And wipe the latest tear away ! 

— Robert Grant. 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 529 

HYMNS OF HEAVEN. 

I HAD rather be the author of " Rock of Ages " — that crown-jewel of 
* sacred minstrelsy — than of either of President Edwards' masterly 
treatises. Charles Wesley did more for Christ when he sang 

" Jesus, lover of my soul ! " 

than if he had written fifty volumes of sound theology. The hymn itself 
would be enough to make Wesley and Calvin's spirits embrace each other 
before the throne of their Redeemer, and weep that they ever had a 
controversy while in the flesh. 

Among the ancient hymns of Heaven we must not overlook that noble 
lyric composed by old Bernard of Cluny. Its opening verse is, 

" Jerusalem, the golden! 

With milk and honey blest, 
Beneath Thy contemplation 

Sink heart and voice oppressed! " 

The whole hymn reads like one of holy Rutherford's "Letters" 
turned into rhyme. It is rich in Scriptural imagery, without degenerating 
into the coarser sensuous language which disfigures some of the pious 
doggerel in our Sabbath-school music books. In fact, some of these 
descriptions of Heaven would answer about as well for Mohammed's 
Paradise. They give children the idea that the glorified spirits on high 
are enjoying a sort of celestial picnic, with no end of good things to eat, 
and of angels to sing to them under the green bowers. 

In my own childhood I got a very different conception of the 
holy habitation of the redeemed, when I heard that glorious hymn of 
Isaac Watts: 

" There is a land of pure delight 
Where saints immortal reign, 
Infinite day excludes the night, 
And pleasures banish pain." 

As the inspired singer of this lay looked across Southampton water 
to the verdant banks of the Isle of Wight, he caught a beautiful image 
of death as a "narrow sea" dividing the heavenly land from ours. He 
imagines the lovely island across the water to be a type of that land, and 
writes : 

" Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood 
Stand dressed in living green ; 
So to the Jews old Canaan stood 
While Jordan rolled between." 



53Q THE FUTURE LIFE. 

Of many another hymn of Heaven I wish I had time and space to 
write. In our days several fine additions have been made to this celestial 
hymnology. Among them are " Rest for the Weary," and Dr. Muhlenberg's 
"I Would Not Live Alway."— T. L. Cuyler. 



GOD'S ACRE. 



[ LIKE that ancient Saxon phrase which calls 
I The burial-ground God's acre ! It is just; 
It consecrates each grave within its walls, 

And breathes a benison o'er the sleeping dust. 

God's Acre ! Yes, that blessed name imparts 
Comfort to those who in the grave have sown 

The seed that they had garnered in their hearts 
Their bread of life, alas ! no more their own. 

Into its furrows shall we all be cast, 

In the sure faith that we shall rise again 
At the great harvest, when the archangel's blast 

Shall winnow, like a fan, the chaff and grain. 

Then shall the good stand in immortal bloom, 

In the fair gardens of that second birth ; 
And each bright blossom mingle its perfume 

With that of flowers which never bloomed on earth. 

With thy rude ploughshare, Death, turn up the sod, 
And spread the furrow for the seed we sow ; 

This is the field and Acre of our God ! 

This is the place where human harvests grow ! 

— Longfellow. 



THE REST OF THE JUST. 

REST! how sweet the sound! It is melody to my ears! It lies as a 
reviving cordial at my heart, and from thence sends forth lively spirits 
which beat through all the pulses of my soul ! Rest, not as the stone that 
rests on the earth, nor as this flesh shall rest in the grave, nor such a rest 
as the carnal world desires. O blessed rest! when we rest not day and 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 531 

night saying, " Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty :" when we shall rest 
from sin,. but not from worship ; from suffering and sorrow, but not from joy J 
O blessed day ! when I shall rest with God ! when I shall rest in the bosom 
of my Lord! when my perfect soul and body shall together perfectly 
enjoy the most perfect God ! when God, who is love itself, shall perfectly 
love me, and rest in this love to me, as I shall rest in my love to Him ; and 
rejoice ever me with joy, and joy over me with singing, as I shall rejoice in 
Him! 

This is that joy which was procured by sorrow, that crown which 
was procured by the Cross. My Lord wept that now my tears might be 
wiped away; He bled that I might now rejoice; He was forsaken that I 
might not now be forsook ; He then died that I might now live. O free 
mercy, that can exalt so vile a wretch ! 

FREE TO ME, THOUGH DEAR TO CHRIST; 

free grace that hath chosen me, when thousands were forsaken. This is 
not like our cottages of clay, our prisons, our earthly dwellings. This voice 
of joy-is not like our old complaints, our impatient groans and sighs ; nor 
this melodious praise like the scoffs and revilings, or the oaths and curses, 
which we heard on earth. This body is not like that we had, nor this soul 
like the soul we had, nor this life like the life we lived. ' We have changed 
our place and state, our clothes and thoughts, our looks, language, and 
company. Before, a saint was weak and despised; but now, how happy 
and glorious a thing is a saint ! Where is now their body of sin, which 
wearied themselves and those about them ? Where are now our different 
judgments, reproachful names, divided spirits, exasperated passions, strange 
looks, uncharitable censures? Now are all of one judgment, of one name, 
of one heart, house and glory. O sweet reconciliation! happy union!— 
Richard Baxter. 



A PSALM OF LIFE. 

TELL me not, in mournful numbers, 
Life is but an empty dream ! 
For the soul is dead that slumbers, 
And things are not what they seem. 

Life is real ! Life is earnest ! 

And the grave is not its goal ; 
Dust thou art, to dust returnest, 

Was not spoken of the soul. 



532 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, 

Is our destined end or way; 
But to act, that each to-morrow 

Find us farther than to-day. 

Art is long, and Time is fleeting, 
And our hearts, though stout and brave, 

Still, like muffled drums, are beating 
Funeral marches to the grave. 

In the world's broad field of battle, 

In the bivouac of Life, 
Be not like dumb, driven cattle ! 

Be a hero in the strife ! 

Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant ! 

Let the dead Past bury its dead ! 
Act, — act in the living Present ! 

Heart within, and God o'erhead! 

Lives of great men all remind us 
We can make our lives sublime, 

And, departing, leave behind us 
Footprints on the sands of time; — 

Footprints, that perhaps another, 
Sailing o'er life's solemn main, 

A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, 
Seeing, shall take heart again. 

Let us, then, be up and doing, 

With a heart for any fate ; 
Still achieving, still pursuing, 

Learn to labor and to wait. 

— Longfellow. 



Meditate daily on the things of eternity, and by the grace of God, do 
something daily which thou wouldest wish to have done when the Day of 
Judgment comes. 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 533 

THE RESURRECTION. 

WHEN we see the sun set, we know that it will rise again, and so when 
we see the bodies of our friends borne to the voiceless dwelling of 
the tomb, we know that they also shall rise again. Every night of Death 
is followed by a Resurrection morning. How precious is the thought as 
connected with God's people that they shall rise from the dead ! How rise ? 
With glorified bodies, upon which the second death has no power. Rise by 
what power? By the mighty power of God. Rise when? When the Lord 
Jesus shall be revealed from Heaven with all His mighty angels, then shall 
they be caught up to meet Him in the air. Rise to what? To glory, honor, 
and immortality in the presence-chamber of God. How these thoughts 
light up with brightness every sepulchre of the righteous! How the 
doctrine of the Resurrection throws a halo over every Christian's head-stone, 
and makes each open grave a little postern-gate leading into glory ! 

THE LOST ONES. 

Reader, have you lost a father, mother, brother, sister, wife, child, or 
lover, — and were they Christ's before they died? Then lift up your heads, 
wipe away your tears, cheer up your hearts, for they shall come forth again 
before your face. Their sunset, though it left you in gloom and midnight 
sorrow, will soon be followed by the dawn of Resurrection day, and 
when the archangel's trump shall sound out over land and sea, awaking the 
myriads who slumber in earth's bosom, then shall your loved ones, who 
sunk to rest in Jesus, rise again and go forth to meet and glorify their 
adorable Redeemer. When the morning of the Resurrection dawns, it will 
usher in a day that has no clouds, a day that has no sunset, and a day that 
is followed by no night of sorrow or of death. — Bishop Stevens. 



BEYOND. 



B 



EYOND the smiling and the weeping 

I shall be soon ; 
Beyond the waking and the sleeping, 
Beyond the sowing and the reaping, 
I shall be soon. 
Love, rest, and home ! 
Sweet home ! 
Lord, tarry not, but come. 



534 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

Beyond the blooming and the fading 

I shall be soon ; 
Beyond the shining and the shading, 
Beyond the hoping and the dreading, 
I shall be soon. 
Love, rest, and home! 

Beyond the rising and the setting 

I shall be soon ; 
Beyond the calming and the fretting, 
Beyond remembering and forgetting, 

I shall be soon, 
Love, rest, and home ! 

Beyond the gathering and the strowing 

I shall be soon ; 
Beyond the ebbing and the flowing, 
Beyond the coming and the going, 
I shall be soon. 
Love, rest, and home ! 

Beyond the parting and the meeting 

I shall be soon ; 
Beyond the farewell and the greeting, 
Beyond the pulse's fever beating, 
I shall be soon. 
Love, rest, and home ! 

Beyond the frost chain and the fever 

I shall be soon ; 
Beyond the rock waste and the river, 
Beyond the ever and the never, 
I shall be soon. *- 
Love, rest, and home ! 
Sweet home ! 
Lord, tarry not, but come. 

— Horatius Bonar. 



Life is before you ; not an earthly life ; but an endless life; a thread 
running interminably through the work of eternity. 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 535 

BEYOND THE GRAVE. 

WHEN I look in the direction of the future, one picture always rises — a 
picture of ravishing - beauty. Its essence, I believe to be true. Its 
accidents will be more glorious than all that my imagination puts into it. 
It is that of a soul forever growing in knowledge, in love, in holy endeavor ; 
that of a vast community of spirits moving along a pathway of light, 
of ever-expanding excellence and glory; brightening as they ascend; 
becoming more and more like the unpicturablc pattern of infinite perfection; 
loving with an ever-deepening love, glowing with an ever-increasing fervor; 
rejoicing in ever-advancing knowledge; growing in glory and power. They 
are all immortal. There are no failures or reverses to any of them. Ages 
fly away; they soar on with tireless wing. .^Eons and cycles advance 
toward them and retire behind them; still they soar, and shout, and 
unfold ! 

THE IMMORTAL HOST. 

I am one of that immortal host. Death can not destroy me. I shall 
live when stars dim with age. The advancing and retreating aeons shall 
not fade my immortal youth. Thou, Gabriel, that standest near the throne, 
bright with a brightness that dazzles my earth-born vision, rich with the 
experience of uncounted ages, first-born of the sons of God, noblest of the 
archangelic retinue, far on I shall stand where thou standest now ; rich 
with an equal experience, great with an equal growth;' thou wilt have 
passed on, and from higher summits wilt gaze back on a still more glorious 
progress. 

Beyond the grave ! As the vision rises, how this side dwindles into 
nothing — a speck — a moment — and its glory and pomp shrink into the 
trinklets and baubles that amuse an infant for a day. Only those things, in 
the glory of this light, which lay hold of immortality, seem to have any 
value. The treasures that consume away or that burn up with this 
perishing world are not treasures. Those only that we carry beyond the 
grave are worth the saving. — Bishop Foster. 



FOREVER WITH THE LORD. 

" COREVER with the Lord!" 
1 So, Jesus, let it be ; 

Life from the dead is in that word — 
'Tis immortality. 



536 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



Here in the body pent, 

Absent from Thee I roam ; 
Yet nightly pitch my moving tent 

A day's march nearer home. 

; Forever with the Lord !" 

Saviour, if 'tis Thy will, 
The promise of that faithful word 

E'en here to me fulfil. 

So when my latest breath 

Shall rend the veil in twain, 
By death I shall escape from death, 

And life eternal gain. 

Knowing as I am known, 

How shall I love that word, 
And oft repeat before the throne, 

" Forever with the Lord !" 

—James Montgomery. 



JERUSALEM, MY HAPPY HOME. 

JERUSALEM, my happy home, 
When shall I come to thee ? 
When shall my sorrows have an end — 

Thy joys when shall I see ? 
O happy harbor of God's saints ! 

O sweet and pleasant soil ! 
In thee no sorrows can be found — 
No grief, no care, no toil. 

In thee no sickness is at all, 

No hurt nor any sore ; 
There is no death nor ugly night, 

But life for evermore. 
No dimming cloud o'ershadows thee, 

No cloud nor darksome night, 
But every soul shines as the sun — 

For God Himself gives light. 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 



537 



O my sweet home, Jerusalem ! 

Thy joys when shall I see — 
The King sitting upon His throne, 

And thy felicity ? 
Thy vineyards, and thy orchards, 

So wonderfully rare, 
Are furnish'd with all kinds of fruit, 

Most beautifully fair. 



DEPARTURE OF FRIENDS. 

'RIEND after friend departs : 

Who hath not lost a friend ? 
There is no union here of hearts, 

That finds not here an end. 
Were this frail world our only rest, 
Living or dying, none were blest. 

Beyond the flight of time, 

Beyond this vale of death, 
There surely is some blessed clime 

Where life is not a breath, 
Nor life's affection transient fire, 
Whose sparks fly upward to expire. 

There is a world above, 

Where parting is unknown ; 
A whole eternity of love, 

Form'd for the good alone ; 
And faith beholds the dying here, 
Translated to that happier shore. 

Thus star by star declines, 

Till all are passed away, 
As morning high and higher shines. 

To pure and perfect day; 
Nor sink those stars in empty night, 
They hide themselves in Heaven's own light. 

— James Montgomery. 



5^8 THE FUTURE LIFE, 



O 



PARADISE. 

PARADISE! O Paradise! 

'Tis weary waiting here : 
I long to be where Jesus is, 
To feel, to see Him near ; 

Where loyal hearts, and true, 

Stand ever in the light, 
All rapture through and through, 
In God's most holy sight. 



Paradise ! O Paradise ! 
I want to sin no more; 

1 want to be as pure on earth 
As on thy spotless shore ; 

Where loyal hearts, and true, 

Stand ever in the light, 
All rapture through and through, 

In God's most holy sight. 

O Paradise ! O Paradise ! 

I greatly long to see 
The special place my dearest Lord 
Is destining for me ; 

Where loyal hearts, and true, 

Stand ever in the light, 
All rapture through and through, 
In God's most holy sight. 

— Frederick William Faber. 



T 



THE HOUR OF REST. 

HERE is an hour of peaceful rest, 

To mourning wanderers given ; 

There is a joy for souls distress'd, 

A balm for every wounded breast- 

'Tis found above, in Heaven. 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 539 

There is a soft, a downy bed, 

Far from these shades of even ; 
A couch for weary mortals spread, 
Where they may rest the aching head, 

And find repose in Heaven. 

There is a home for weary souls, 

By sin and sorrow driven ; 
When toss'd on life's tempestuous shoals, 
Where storms arise and ocean rolls, 

And all is drear — 'tis Heaven. 

There Faith lifts up her cheerful eye, 

The heart no longer riven ; 
And views the tempest passing by, 
The evening shadows quickly fly, 

And all serene in Heaven. 

There fragrant flowers, immortal, bloom, 

And joys supreme are given: 
There rays divine disperse the gloom — 
Beyond the confines of the tomb 

Appears the dawn of Heaven. 

— William B. Tappan. 



IS DEATH THE END. 

I BELIEVE that man shall live again because there is no such thing in 
Nature as failure. 

Nature succeeds in all her operations. Individual specimens may 
fall by the way, but the species accomplishes its end. 

Now unless man live again, he is an absolute failure. I do not 
remember to have met this thought in any of the literature devoted to this 
theme, nevertheless, it has often impressed me as a singular proof that 
there is a sequel to this present life. Go and set for yourself what theory 
you will concerning the object of man's creation, and if you exclude a life 
beyond the grave, man is a failure. Remember, however, that throughout 
all Nature every created object fitly serves some discoverable purpose 
and is fully capable of performing its mission. We know what the sheep in 
the pasture and the cattle upon the hills are for ; we know the uses of the 
fruits and the ripening grain ; we can tell the purpose for which birds and 



S40 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

fishes are made, and from the clouds yonder with their rain and thunder- 
bolts, yea ! from the sun, moon, and stars behind the clouds down through 
the infinite ether to the earth's crust, and down further yet to the great mines 
of gold and silver, and to the great lakes of oil and salt, everywhere 
throughout every highway and by-path, and into every recess of Nature, may 
we trace a purpose, discern an object or recognize a mission for every 
created thing, and find each thing capable of performing that mission. 

But what is your mission ? Whom or what do you serve ? What was 
the purpose of your creation ? Where do you belong in the catalogue of the 
universe? What are you doing here on this planet? For what are you 
designed? Name any purpose you will for man, ascribe to him any mission 
you will, assign to him any place you will in the economy of Nature, and if 
you do not include the possibilities of a Future Life, man is an absolute 
failure. 

WHAT IS SUCCESS? 

I know it is said that this man or that man is a successful man. 
Successful in what? In the accumulation of wealth? Naked he came and 
naked he will go, and his estate is scattered before the second generation 
passes. Is it fame as a lawyer that you seek? The penniless daughter of 
a world-renowned Chief Justice was a poor government clerk in Washington 
the other day. Is it military glory ? Napoleon died with a broken heart, 
and the homage of the whole world could not lift the cloud of sorrow which 
gathered on the heights of Mount McGregor around the form of the dying 
chieftain, General Grant. Would you become a mercantile prince ? Ninety- 
five in every hundred is the percentage of unsuccessful merchants. Would 
you master the sciences? 

SIR. ISAAC NEWTON, WITH HIS GIGANTIC INTELLECT, 

confessed at four-score that he had picked up only a few pebbles on the 
shore of the ocean. Is it literary reputation that you wish for? How many 
authors have appeared, the world over, in the last forty years, whose books 
will be read forty years hence? I doubt if there be five. Would you 
achieve greatness in the field of historical research and speculation? Only 
seventeen years ago the world hailed Buckle as the rising star in that 
domain, and I recall an afternoon I once passed with General Frank Blair, 
he many years my senior, but finding a common tie in our common 
admiration for the great Buckle, and I shall not forget the eloquence of 
that gifted man as he praised Buckle, while I gave warm assent. Within 
five years the best thinkers had discarded Buckle's theories and repudiated 
Buckle's conclusions. Would you found a school of philosophy? No 
English philosopher in the last two centuries has had so great a number of 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 541 

followers as Herbert Spencer, and yet Spencer's influence upon educated 
thinkers is waning to-day, and some of his books are going now to the top 
shelf. Is domestic happiness, a noble wife, happy children, and a glowing 
fireside your highest aim? So be it! for that is indeed the very sublime of 
human life ! But think of a family circle with no hope of a life beyond, and 
many a grass-covered mound between the cradle and the grandsire, and not 
an hour's ride from the threshold to the cemetery out there beneath the 
trees. 

VIEW LIFE IN ITS VARIOUS PHASES. 

Turn then where you will, look up and down every avenue, view life 
in all its varying phases, and there can be but one solemn conclusion — if 
there is no life beyond the grave, man is an abject failure. A failure ! Can 
that be ? No ! No ! Man standing at the summit, the heir of all the ages, 
destined to ultimate dominion over the whole earth, the master of steam 
and electricity, the autocrat of earth and sea, and compelling even the stars 
to yield their secrets to his spectrum analysis ; man, walking to and fro in 
the corridors of the universe, naming and weighing the planets, and telling 
when and where the wondering comet shall reappear ; man, endowed with 
such wonderful powers as these, and endowed too with a heart that can love 
and love forever — no! the Almighty has not written the word failure on the 
forehead of such a being as that, and somehow and somewhere, man must 
and will push up and on in a career worthy of a creature thus made in the 
sublime image of the Infinite One himself. — Geo. R. Wendling. 



THE PLACE FOR CONSOLATION. 

IN our hours of sorrow the one place for consolation is at the feet of Jesus. 
On His bosom the beloved disciple leaned — there is also room for us. 
Where the afflicted sisters of Bethany sat we may sit down too, and hear 
the heavenly voice say: "I am the Resurrection and the Life." How 
sweetly fall the promises from His lips : " Lo ! I am with you always. My 
peace I give unto you. Let not your hearts be troubled ; I go to prepare a 
place for you; that where I am ye may be also." 

Then let our perpetual invitation be : Lord abide with us : for it is 
toward evening, and the day is far spent \—Cuyler. 



There is nothing like a calm look into the eternal world to teach us 
the emptiness of human praise. 



542 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

1 " PASS UNDER THE ROD." 

I SAW the young bride in her beauty and pride, 
Bedeck'd in her snowy array ; 
And the bright flush of joy mantled high on her cheek, 

And the future look'd blooming and gay. 
And with woman's devotion she laid her fond heart 

At the shrine of idolatrous love, 
And she anchored her hopes to this perishing earth, 

By the chain which her tenderness wove. 
But I saw when those heart-strings were bleeding and torn, 

And the chain had been sevcr'd in two, 
She had changed her white robes for the sables of grief, 

And her bloom for the paleness of woe ! 
But her Healer was there, pouring balm on her heart, 

And wiping the tears from her eyes, 
And He strcngthen'd the chain he had broken in twain, 

And fasten'd it firm to the skies ! 
There had whispcr'd a voice — 'twas the voice of her God: 
" I love thee — I love thee — Pass under the rod!" 

I saw the young mother in tenderness bend 

O'er the couch of her slumbering boy, 
And she kiss'd the soft lips as they murmur'd her name, 

While the dreamer lay smiling in joy. 
Oh, sweet as a rosebud encircled with dew, 

When its fragrance is flung on the air, 
So fresh and so bright to that mother he seem'd, 

As he lay in his innocence there. 
But I saw when she gazed on the same lovely form. 

Pale as marble, and silent, and cold, 
But paler and colder her beautiful boy, 

And the tale of her sorrow was told ! 
But the Healer was there who had stricken her heart, 

And taken her treasure away ; 
To allure her to Heaven, He has placed it on high, 

And the mourner will sweetly obey. 
There had whispcr'd a voice— 'twas the voice of her God: 
"I love thee — I love thee — Pass under the rod 7" 

I saw the fond brother, with glances cf love, 
Gazing down on a gentle young girl, 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 543 

And she hung- on his arm, and breathed soft in his ear, 

As he play'd with each graceful curl. 
Oh, he loved the sweet tones of her silvery voice, 

Let her use it in sadness or glee ; 
And he twined his arms round her delicate form, 

As she sat in the eve on his knee. 
But I saw when he gazed on her death-stricken face, 

And she breathed not a word in his ear, 
And he clasped his arms round an icy-cold form, 

And he moisten'd her cheek with a tear. 
But the Healer was there, and He said to him thus, 
"Grieve not for thy sister's short life," 
And He gave to his arms still another fair girl, 

And he made her his own cherish'd wife ! 
There had whisper'd a voice — 'twas the voice of his God : 
I love thee — I love thee — Pass under the rod!" 

I saw, too, a father and mother who lean'd 

On the arms of a dear gifted son, 
And the star in the future grew bright to their gaze, 

As they saw the proud place he had won ; 
And the fast-coming evening of life promised fair, 

And its pathway grew smooth to their feet, 
And the star-light of love glimmer'd bright at the end, 

And the whispers of fancy were sweet. 
And I saw them again, bending low o'er the grave, 

Where their heart's dearest hope had been laid, 
And the star had gone down in the darkness of night, 

And the joy from their bosoms had fled. 
But the Healer was there, and His arms were around, 

And He led them with tenderest care ; 
And He show'd them a star in the bright upper world ; 

'Twas their star shining brilliantly there ! 
They had each heard a voice — 'twas the voice of their God : 
1 1 love thee — I love thee — Pass under the rod!" 

— Mary S. B. Dana. 



I hold it my duty to believe, not what I can comprehend or account 
for, but what my Master teaches me. 



544 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



LUX BENIGNA. 

EAD, kindly Light, amid th' encircling gloom, 
t Lead Thou me on ; 

The night is dark, and I am far from home ; 

Lead Thou me on ; 
Keep Thou my feet ; I do not ask to see 
The distant scene — one step enough for me. 

I was not ever thus, nor prayed that Thou 

Shouldst lead me 5n ; 
I loved to choose and see my path ; but now 

Lead Thou me on. 
I loved the garish day, and spite of fears, 
Pride ruled my will. Remember not past years. 

So long Thy power has bless'd me, sure it still 

Will lead me on 
O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till 

The night is gone, 
And with the moon those angel faces smile 
Which I have loved long since, and lost a while. 

— John Henry Newntar n 



NEARER HEAVEN. 

Now is our salvation nearer than when we believed. — Romans 13 : IL 



o 



NE sweetly solemn thought 
Comes to me o'er and o'er — 

I'm nearer home to-day 

Than I've ever been before. 

Nearer my Father's house, 
Where the many mansions be ; 

Nearer the great white throne, 
Nearer the crystal sea. 

Nearer the bound of life, 

Where we lay our burden down 
Nearer leaving the cross, 

Nearer gaining the crown. 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 545 

But lying daily between, 

Winding down through the night, 
Is the deep and unknown stream 

That leads at last to the light. 

Jesus, perfect my trust, 

Strengthen the band of my faith ; 
Let me feel Thee near when I stand 

On the edge of the shore of death 

Feel Thee near when my feet 

Are slipping over the brink ; 
For it may be I'm nearer home, 

Nearer now than I think. 

— Phcebe Carj. 



T 



THE RAINY DAY. 

HE day is cold, and dark and dreary; 
It rains, and the wind is never weary ; 
The vine still clings to the mouldering wall, 
But at every gust the dead leaves fall, 
And the day is dark and dreary. 

My life is cold, and dark, and dreary, 
It rains, and the wind is never weary; 
My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past, 
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast, 
And the days are dark and dreary. 

Be still, sad heart ! and cease repining 
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining 
Thy fate is the common fate of all, 
Into each life some rain must fall, 
Some days must be dark and dreary. 

— Longfellow. 

DIMENSIONS OF HEAVEN. 

REVELATIONS 21 : 16. "And he measured the city with a reed 
twelve thousand furlongs. The length, height, and breadth of it are 
equal." Twelve thousand furlongs, 7,920,000 feet, which being cubed is 
948,988,000,000,000,000,000,000 cubic feet, the half of which we will reserve 



546 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

for the throne of God and the court of Heaven, half of the remainder for 
the streets, and the remainder divided by 4-96, the cubical feet in the rooms, 
19 feet square and 16 feet high, will be 5,743,759,000,000 rooms. We will 
now suppose the world always did and always will contain 900,000,000 
inhabitants, and a generation lasts 33^ years (2,700,000 every century), and 
that the world stands 100,000 years — 27,000,000,000,000 persons. Then 
suppose there were 1 1,230 such worlds equal to this number of inhabitants 
and duration of years, then there would be a room 16 feet long and 17 feet 
wide and 15 feet high for each person, and yet there would be room. 



DURATION OF HEAVEN. 

SUPPOSE the whole world were a sea, and that, when every thousand 
years expired, a bird must carry away or drink up only one drop of it. 
In process of time it will come to pass that this sea, though very large, shall 
be dried up ; but yet many thousand millions of years must be passed before 
this can be done. Now, if a man should enjoy happiness in Heaven only 
for the space of time in which this sea is drying up, he would think his case 
most happy and blessed; but, behold ! the elect shall enjoy the Kingdom of 
Heaven not only for that time, but, when it is ended, they shall enjoy it as 
long again ; and, when all is done, they shall be as far from the ending of 
this their joy as they were at the beginning. — IV. Perkins. 



IDEAS OF HEAVEN. 

HEAVEN was, in Southey's view, the home of genius, where all the 
gifted spirits of our race hold exalted fellowship. He longed to see 
and converse with Shakespeare, Dante, and Chaucer. John Foster, a man 
whose character and thoughts were cast in a far different mould, felt in this 
world that he was under restraint ; that the great secrets of the spiritual 
universe were hid from him ; that death would break down the barrier, and 
give his spirit free scope to plunge into the mysteries of truth. His sublime 
soul was like a courser panting to leap the barrier ; like an eagle dragging 
at its chain, and longing to soar above the clouds. 

Leighton's desire was simply spiritual ; it was a longing for purity, 
perfection, love, Christ, and God. He felt this was a dark world, because a 
Sinful one, and he longed for a holy Heaven more than they who watch for 
the morning, saying :" The utmost we poor mortals can attain to is to lie 
awake in the dark, and a great piece of art and patience is to while away the 
hours of night." He delighted in the old apothegm, "The day which you 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 547 



fear as the deathday of time is the birthday of eternity." His alacrity to 
depart resulted from his earnest desire to see and enjoy perfection in the 
perfect sense of it, which he could not do and live. — /. Stoughton. 



ACTIVITY IN HEAVEN. 

I COULD hardly wish to enter Heaven, did I believe its inhabitants were 
„, idly to sit by purling streams, fanned by balmy airs. Heaven, to be a 
place of happiness, must be a place of activity. Has the far-reaching mind 
of Newton ceased its profound investigations ? Has David hung up his 
harp, as useless as the dusty arms in Westminster Abbey? Has Paul, 
glowing with God-like enthusiasm, ceased itinerating the universe of God ? 
Are Peter and Cyprian and Edwards and Payson and Evarts idling away 
eternity in mere psalm singing ? Heaven is a place of restless activity, the 
abode of never-tiring thought. David and Isaiah will sweep nobler and 
loftier strains in eternity ; and the minds of the saints, unclogged by 
cumbersome clay, will forever feast on the banquet of rich and glorious 
thought. My young friends, go on then ; you will never get through. 
An eternity of untiring action is before you, and the universe of thought is 
your field. — Beechcr. 



EMPLOYMENTS IN HEAVEN. 

THE reason that so many people never start for Heaven is because they 
could not stand it if they got there, if it should turn out to be the 
rigid and formal place some pious people photograph it. 

We like to go to Church, but we would not want to stay there till 
next Christmas. 'We like to hear the Hallelujah Chorus, but we would not 
want to hear it all the time for fifty centuries. On some occasions it might 
possibly be comfortable to wear a crown of gold weighing several pounds, 
but it would be an affliction to wear such a crown forever. In other words, 
we make what is intended as especial and celebrative the exclusive 
employment of Heaven. You might as well, if asked to describe the habits 
of American society, describe a Decoration Day, or a Fourth of July, or an 
autumnal Thanksgiving, as though it were all the time that way. 

I am not going to speculate as to the future world, but I must, by the 
inevitable laws of inference and deduction and common sense, conclude 
that in Heaven we will differ as much as we differ now, and that there will 
be as many employments in the celestial world as there are in this. 



548 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

Are you so obtuse as to suppose that because the painter drops his 
easel, and the sculptor his chisel, and the engraver his knife, that therefore 
the taste and talent, which he was intensifying and enlarging for forty or 
fifty years are obliterated ? They are at their old business yet, but without 
the fatigues, without the limitations, without the hindrances of the 
terrestrial studio. 



THE CELESTIAL ART GALLERY. 

RAPHAEL could now improve upon his masterpiece of Michael, the 
Archangel, now that he has seen him, and could improve upon his 
" Holy Family," now that he has visited it. Michael Angelo could better 
present the " Last Judgment " after he had seen its flash and heard the 
rumbling battering-rams of its thunder. I am persuaded that the grander 
studios and brighter galleries are higher up by the winding marble stairs 
of the sepulchre, and that Turner, and Holman Hunt, and Rembrandt, and 
Titian, and Paul Veroneso, if they exercised faith in the Christ they 
portrayed on the canvas, are painters yet, but their strength of faculty 
multiplied ten thousand-fold. Do not, therefore, be melancholy among the 
tapestries, the bric-a-brac, the embroideries, the water-colors, and the works 
of art in which the departed ones delighted. Do not say : " I am sorry they 
had to leave all these things." Rather say: " I am glad they have gone up 
to higher artistic appreciation and opportunities." Our friends who found 
so much joy in the fine arts on earth, are now luxuriating in the Louvres 
and Luxembourgs celestial. 



THE WHITE-ROBED CHOIR. 

THE Bible says so much about the music of Heaven that it can not all be 
figurative. If Heaven had no songs of its own, a vast number of those 
of earth would have been taken up. There must be millions of souls in 
Heaven who know " Coronation " and " Antioch " and " Mount Pisgah " and 
" Old Hundred." The leader of the eternal orchestra need tap his baton 
only once and all Heaven is ready for a Hallelujah. Do not, therefore, in 
your home, when some loved one leaves for Heaven, close the piano and 
unstring the harp for two years because the fingers that used to play on 
them are motionless. You must remember that those fingers play now on 
better instruments. 

Grand old Haydn, sick and worn out, was carried for the last time 
into the music-hall, and there he heard his own oratorio of the " Creation." 
When the orchestra came to that famqjfes passage, "Let there be Light!" 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 549 

the audience rose and cheered, and Haydn waved his hand toward Heaven 
and said : " It came from there !" He was right. " It came from there." 
Music was born in Heaven, and it will ever have its highest throne in 
Heaven. I think that the grand old Church tunes that died when your 
grandfathers died have gone with them to Heaven. — Talmage. 



FIGURES OF HEAVEN. 

IT is held forth to our view as a banquet, where our souls shall be satisfied 
forevermore ; the beauties of Jehovah's face, the mysteries of Divine grace, 
the riches of redeeming love, communion with God and the Lamb, fellow- 
ship with the Infinite Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, being the heavenly 
fulness on which we shall feed. As a paradise — a garden of fruits and 
flowers, on which our spiritual natures and gracious tastes will be regaled 
through one ever-verdant spring and golden summer; a paradise where 
lurks no serpent to destroy, and where fruits and flowers shall never fade 
and droop nor die. As an inheritance ; but an inheritance that is incor- 
ruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away — the inheritance of the 
saints. As a kingdom, whose immunities, felicities and glories are vast and 
splendid, permanent, and real, quite overwhelming, indeed, our present 
feeble imaginings. As a country over whose wide regions we shall traverse 
in all the might of our untried faculties, and in all the glow of new and 
Heaven-born energies, discovering and gathering fresh harvests of intelli- 
gence, satisfaction, and delight. 

AS A CITY WHOSE WALLS ARE BURNISHED COLD, 

whose pavement is jasper, sardonyx and onyx, through which flows the 
river of life ; the inhabitants of which hunger no more, thirst no more, sicken 
no more, weep no more, die no more ; a city where there is no need of the 
sun by day, in which there is no night at all, and of which the Lord God 
Almighty is the Light and the Lamb the Glory. As a palace where dwells 
the Lord our righteousness, the King in His beauty — His beauty of holiest 
love. As a building that has God for its Maker, immortality for its walls, and 
eternity for its day. 

As a sanctuary where the Thrice Holy Divinity, enshrined in our own 
nature in the person of Immanuel, is worshipped and adored, without a 
sigh, without an imperfection, and without intermission ; where hymns of 
praise, Hallelujahs of Salvation and Hosannahs of Redemption, uttered by 
blest voices without number, ever sound before the throne. 



550 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

As a temple bright with the Divine Glory, filled with the Divine 
presence, streaming with Divine beauty, and people with shining monu- 
ments of Divine goodness, mercy, and grace. — Dr. Beaumont. 



A HOME IN HEAVEN. 

HOME in Heaven! What a joyful thought, 
As the poor man toils in his weary lot ! 
His heart opprest, and with anguish driven 
From his home below to his home in Heaven. 

A home in Heaven ! As the sufferer lies 

On his bed of pain, and uplifts his eyes 

To that bright home ; what a joy is given, 

With the blessed thought of his home in Heaven. 

A home in Heaven ! When our pleasures fade, 
And our wealth and fame in the dust are laid, 
And strength decays, and our health is riven, 
We are happy still with our home in Heaven. 

A home in Heaven ! When the faint heart bleeds, 
By the Spirit's stroke, for its evil deeds ; 
Oh ! then what bliss in that heart forgiven 
Does the hope inspire of a home in Heaven. 

A borne in Heaven ! When our friends are fled 
To the cheerless gloom of the mouldering dead ; 
We wait in hope on the promise given ; 
We will meet up there in our home in Heaven. 

A home in Heaven ! When the wheel is broke. 
And the golden bowl by the terror-stroke ; 
When life's bright sun sinks in death's dark even, 
We will then fly up to our home in Heaven. 

Our home in Heaven ! Oh, the glorious home, 
And the Spirit, joined with the bride, says " Come !" 
Come, seek His face, and your sins forgiven, 
And rejoice in hope of your home in Heaven. 

— Williajn Hunter. 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 551 

HILL-TOPS OF HEAVEN. 

FROM this hill-top of life I catch a glimpse of those hill-tops where all 
sorrow and sighing shall be done away. Oh, that God would make that 
world to 11s a reality ! Faith in that world helped old Dr. Tyng, when he 
stood by the casket of his dead son, whose arm had been torn off in the 
threshing machine, death ensuing ; and Dr. Tyng, with infinite composure, 
preached the funeral sermon of his own beloved son. Faith in that world 
helped Martin Luther without one tear to put away in death his favorite 
child. Faith in that world helped the dying woman to see on the sky the 
letter ." W," and they asked her what she supposed that letter " W " on the 
sky meant. " Oh," she said, " don't you know ? ' W stands for welcome." O 
Heaven, swing open thy gates ! O Heaven, roll upon us some of thine 
anthems ! O Heaven, flash upon us the vision of thy lustre ! 



HOMEWARD BOUND. 

AN old writer tells us of a ship coming from India to France. The crew 
was made up of French sailors, who had been long from home, years 
gone away from their families ; and as the ship came along by the coast of 
France the men became uncontrollable, and they skipped the deck with glee, 
and they pointed to the spires of the churches where they once worshipped 
and to the hills where they had played in boyhood. " But," the writer says, 
"when the ship came into the port, and these sailors saw father and mother, 
and wife and loved ones on the wharf, and heard these loved ones call them 
by their names, they sprang ashore and rushed up the banks into the city, 
and the captain had to get another crew to bring the ship to her moorings." 
Thus, heaven, our fatherland, will after a while be so fully in sight we can 
see its towers, and we can see its mansions, and we can see its hills ; and as 
we go into port, and our loved ones shall call from that shining shore, and 
speak our names, we will spring to the beach, leaving this old ship of a 
world to be managed by another crew, our rough voyaging of the seas ended 
forever. 

"Rocks and storms I'll fear no more, 

When on that eternal shore ; 

Drop the anchor, furl the sail, 

We are safe within the vale." 



Palestine was in no sense a Holy Land — the Holy Land was within 
the Redeemer's own heart. 



552 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



DEATH AND THE FUTURE WORLDS. 

THE Jewish. Talmud had some wild imaginings in Eschatology; but here 
is a beautiful paragraph : 

" Death comes to the wicked as the penalty of sin ; in the case of the 
righteous, it comes in God's plan, when his life is complete and his soul 
ready for its reward. As the owner of a fig tree knows when the figs are 
ripe for the harvest, so the Holy One knows when to gather the souls of the 
righteous to Himself. The wicked are caught away by the Angel of Death, 
but the righteous are removed by the kiss of God." 

That is a beautiful idea, and it is in harmony especially with the full 
New Testament revelation concerning death and its relation to the believing 
soul. 

Here is a significant statement : 

" The late Jewish theology divides Sheol (Hades) into two parts, 
(Gehinnom and the lower Paradise) or even into seven. The Talmud does 
not distinguish Sheol from Gehinnom. Hence between Sheol and Paradise 
lies an impassable gulf. The older representation knows only Gehinnom 
for the wicked and the Garden of Eden for the good." 



B 



HEAVEN BEYOND. 

EYOND these chilling winds and gloomy skies- 

Beyond death's cloudy portal — 
There is a land where beauty never dies, 

And love becomes immortal. 

A land whose light is never dimmed by shade, 

Whose fields are ever vernal, 
Where nothing beautiful can ever fade, 

But blooms for aye eternal. 

We may not know how sweet its balmy air, 

How bright and fair its flowers ; 
We may not hear the songs that echo there, 

Through those enchanted bowers. 

The city's shining towers we may not see, 

With our dim earthly vision ; 
For Death, the silent warder, keeps the key 

That opes those gates elysian. 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 553 

But sometimes, where adown the western sky 

The fiery sunset lingers, 
Its golden gates swing inward noiselessly, 

Unlocked by silent fingers : 

And while they stand a moment half ajar, 

Gleams from the inner glory 
Stream lightly through the azure vault afar, 

And half reveal the story. 

O land unknown ! O land of love divine ! 

Father all- wise, eternal, 
Guide, guide these wandering, way-worn feet of mine 

Unto those pastures vernal. 

— Nancy A. W. Priest. 



HEAVEN A CITY. 

A CITY never built with hands, nor hoary with the years of time ; a city 
whose inhabitants no census has numbered ; a city through whose 
streets rush no tides of business, nor nodding hearse creeps slowly with its 
burden to the tomb ; a city without griefs or graves, without sins or sorrows, 
without births or burials, without marriages or mournings ; a city which 
glories in having Jesus for its King, angels for its guards, saints for citizens ; 
whose walls are salvation and whose gates are praise. — Thomas Guthrie. 



NEARNESS OF HEAVEN. 

THE nearness of Heaven is suggested by the epithet " veil." Christians, 
there is only a veil between us and Heaven ! A veil is the thinnest 
and frailest of all conceivable partitions. It is but a fine tissue, a delicate 
fabric of embroidery. It waves in the wind ; the touch of a child may stir 
it, and accident may rend it ; the silent action of time will moulder it away. 
The veil that conceals Heaven is only our embodied existence, and, though 
fearfully and wonderfully made, it is only wrought out of our frail mortality. 
So slight is it that that the puncture of a thorn, the touch of an insect's 
sting, the breath of an infected atmosphere, may make it shake and fall. In 
a bound, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, in the throb of a pulse, in 
the flash of a' thought, we may start into disembodied spirits, glide 
unabashed into the company of great and mighty angels, pass into the light 



554 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

and amazement of eternity, know the great secret, gaze upon splendors 
•which flesh and blood could not sustain, and which no words lawful for man 
to utter could describe ! Brethren in Christ, there is but a step between you 
and death ; between you and Heaven there is but a veil. — C. Stanford. 



o 



THE LAND OF BEULAH. 

GLORIOUS land of heavenly light, 
Where walk the ransomed, clothed in white, 
On hills of myrrh, through pastures green, 
No curse, no cloud upon the scene ! 

Land where the crystal river glides, 
And fruits immortal deck its sides ; 
O land of rest in Eden's bowers, 
No dreary days, no weary hours ! 

No nights of unavailing grief, 
Nor crying which brings no relief ; 
For God shall wipe away all tears, 
And into the past are passed our .fears. 

Beulah, if e'er my weary feet 

Shall press thy blissful shore, 
And tread each shining, golden street, 

To go out thence no more, 

What shall I care for all the way 

That led to thee at last— 
For every dark, despairing day, 

For ever, ever past ? 

If e'er the loved of earthly years 

Shall welcome me to thee, 
What shall I care for all these tears 

Oft flowing bitterly? 

If I may stand before His throne, 

And look upon His face, 
What shall I care that oft, alone, 

Like Him, I ran my race ? 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 555 

Safe on thy ever-blissful plains, 

My heart's own treasure gathered there ; 

Farewell for ever, sins and pains, 

Farewell, bereavement, sorrow, care ! 

— C. Huntington. 

GAIN OF DYING. 

THROUGHOUT the Bible it is declared that the things that we are 
permitted to see in this life are but imitations, glimpses of what we 
shall see hereafter. " It doth not yet appear what we shall be." There are 
times when it seems as though our circumstances, our nature, all the 
processes of our being, conspired to make us joyful here, yet the Apostle 
says we now see " through a glass darkly." What, then, must be the vision 
which we shall behold when we go to that place above where we shall see 
face to face ? What a land of glory have you sent your babies into 1 What 
a land of delight have you sent your children and companions into ! What 
a land of blessedness are you yourselves coming to by-and-by ! Men talk 
about dying as though it was going toward a desolate place. All the past 
in a man's life is down-hill and toward gloom, and all the future of man's 
life is up-hill and toward glorious sunrising. There is but one luminous 
point, and that is the home toward which we are tending, above all storms, 
above all sin and peril. Dying is glorious crowning ; living is yet toiling. 
If God be yours, all things are yours. Live while you must, yet yearn for 
the day of consummation, when the door shall be thrown open, and the 
bird may fly out of his netted cage, and be heard ringing in higher spheres 
and diviner realms. — Beecher. 



ATTRACTIONS OF HEAVEN. 

^HOUGH earth has full many a beautiful spot, 

As a poet or painter might show, 
Yet more lovely and beautiful, holy and bright, 
To the hopes of the heart and the spirit's glad sight, 
Is the land that no mortal may know. 
O ! who but must pine, in this dark vale of tears, 
From its clouds and its shadows to go, 
To walk in the light of the glory above, 
And to share in the peace, and the joy, and the love, 
Of the land that no mortal may know ! 



556 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

There the crystalline stream, bursting - forth from the throne, 

Flows on, and forever will flow ; 

Its waves as they roll are with melody rife, 

And its waters are sparkling with beauty and life, 

In the land which no mortal may know. 

And there on its margin, with leaves ever green, 

With its fruits healing sickness and woe, 

The fair tree of life, in its glory and pride, 

Is fed by that deep, inexhaustible tide 

Of the land which no mortal may know. 

— Bernard Barton. 



APPLES OF GOLD IN PICTURES OF SILVER. 

I CAN NOT believe that earth is man's abiding place. It can't be that our 
life is cast up by the ocean of eternity to float a moment upon its waves, 
and then sink into nothingness ; else, why is it that the glorious aspirations 
which leap like angels from the temple of our heart are forever wandering 
about unsatisfied ? Why is it that the rainbow and clouds come over with 
a beauty that is not of earth, and then pass off, and leave us to muse 
upon their faded loveliness ? Why is it that the stars, that hold their 
festival around the midnight throne, are set above the grasp of our limited 
faculties, forever mocking us with their unapproachable glory? And, 
finally, why is it that bright forms of human beauty are presented to our 
view, and then taken from us, leaving the thousand streams of our affection 
to flow back in Alpine torrents upon our heart ? We are born for a higher 
destiny than that of earth : there is a realm where the rainbow never fades, 
where the stars will be spread before us like islands that slumber on the 
ocean ; and where the beings that pass before us like shadows will stand in 
our presence for ever. — Bulwer. 



THE LONGING FOR IMMORTALITY. 

IT is in the dark hours of life that men long for immortality ; when sickness 
is upon us, death around us, and the grave before us ; when disasters 
press us down, and we feel our impotence, and that life is a failure ; when 
the consciousness of our sinfulness is heavy upon us — " Then the soul 
within us feels her wings, and wrestles with the earthly worm that folds us 
in, contending to be born, impatient for the skies." 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 557 



NOT THE SPECULATION OF GENIUS. 

WE are told that the doctrine of immortality could have arisen only from 
the speculations of men of genius ; and that it was introduced by 
legislators to console mankind under oppression, or deter them from crime 
by motives drawn from future retribution. If this be so, how happens it 
that it has found its way into the deserts, and has been diffused alike over 
the South-Sea Islands and those of the Pacific ; over Lapland and Asia, and 
the nations of benighted Africa ? The nations of the Society Islands 
entertain it ; and those, too, of the Friendly Islands ; the New Zealanders, 
also, and the inhabitants of the Pelew Islands, with the wild tribes of 
Kalmuc Tartary, and all the wandering tribes which have peopled, and do 
still people the continent of America. — R. W. Landis. 



A SILVERY LIGHT FOR EVERY CLOUD. 

FOR every cloud, a silvery light, 
God wills it so. 
For every vale a shining height, 
A glorious morn for every night, 
And birth for labor's throe. 

For snow's white wing, a verdant field; 

A gain for loss. 
For buried seed, the harvest yield ; 
For pain, a strength, a joy revealed, 

A crown for every cross. 



It may be thou art entered into a cloud, which will bring a gentle 
shower to refresh thy sorrows. — Jeremy Taylor. 



HARDER TO LIVE THAN TO DIE. 

IT is not hard to die. It is harder a thousand times to live. To live is to 
see God through a glass darkly. To die is to see Him face to face. To 
live is to be one in the ore. To die is to be smelted and come out pure 
gold. To live is to be in March and November. To die is to find midsummer 
where there is perfect harmony and perfect beauty. — Beecher. 



558 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



H 



BEST OF ALL. 

E was better to me than all my hopes, 

He was better than all my fears ; 
He made a road of my broken works, 

And a rainbow of my tears. 
The billow that guarded my sea-girt path, 

But carried my Lord on its crest ; 
When I dwell on the days of my wilderness march 

I can lean on His love for rest. 

— Anna Shipton. 

When God afflicts the saints, it is to try their precious faith; 
afflictions are his spade and mattock, by which He digs into His people's 
hearts to find out the gold of faith. — W. Gurnal. 



ACTIVITY IN HEAVEN. 

WE must think and feel to be happy, and I believe that we will go right 
on forever with our employments if in this world they were our joy 
and delight. Man in his present state is only the rudiments of what he 
shall be hereafter in a more expansive sphere of existence. Man's desires 
are unbounded ; his happiness is always in the distance. Man is animated 
with hopes and desires which nothing in time can gratify. 



HIGHER, HIGHER! 

HIGHER, higher, every thought 
More into His presence brought, 
Every passion, every feeling, 
More His hidden life revealing. 
Less of self from hour to hour, 
More of Christ's transforming power, 
Yearnings heavenward to aspire 
Unto Jesus, higher, higher. 

Higher, higher, till at length, 
Going on from strength to strength, 
Passing up from grace to grace, 
I behold that longed-for face, 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 559 



Which is ever o'er me leaning 
With its deep and tender meaning, 
And doth into light retire 
But to lead me higher, higher. 



T 



THE PATH OF SORROW. 

HE path of sorrow, and that path alone, 

Leads to the land where sorrow is unknown ; 
No traveller ever reached that blest abode 
Who found not thorns and briars on his road. 

— Wm. Cowper. 



GROWTH IN HEAVEN. 

IN England I have often climbed the winding stairs of an old castle. As 
I have gone up, through the slits of the wall I have caught narrow 
visions of the sweet English landscape, but when at last I stood upon the 
top I have seen what the sun sees. In this body our soul gets a vision of 
things through the fine narrow slits of the senses, sight, hearing, touch, 
taste, smell. When we leave this body and rise into a higher and better 
state of being it looks as though we should come into a closer and wider 
contact with things, see more, know more, become conscious of more, and 
thus enter into a sort of life infinitely more intense. The Future Life will 
be one of service, but frictionless service. Not at all in the sense of sin, 
but in the sense of growth, there will be imperfection in the other life, 
and I also believe that what really makes the soul here — its affection, 
memory, and kinship with other souls — will remain there, and that, 
therefore, as here there must be recognition of friends in Heaven. 



HOW TO LIVE. 

'O live, that when thy summons comes to join 

' The innumerable caravan that moves 

To the pale realms of shade, where each shall take 
His chamber in the silent halls of death, 
Thou go not, like the quarry slave at night, 
Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed 
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave 
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch 
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams. 

— William Cullen Bryant. 



560 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



T 



THE VOICE OF NATURE. 

HE voice of Nature loudly cries — 

And many a message from the skies— 
That something in us never dies ; 
That in this frail, uncertain state, 
Hang matters of eternal weight ; 
That Future Life, in worlds unknown, 
Must take its hue from this alone ; 
Whether as heavenly glory bright, 
Or dark as misery's woeful night. 
Since then, my honored first of friends,' 
On this poor being all depends, 
Let us the important NOW employ, 
And live as those who never die. 

— Burns. 



w 



WE MISS THEM. 

E miss them when the board is spread, 
We miss them when the prayer is said ; 
Upon our dreams their dying eyes 
In still and mournful fondness lies. 

— Newman. 



PARTED— NOT LOST. 

THOU hast lost thy friend — say, rather, thou hast parted with him. That 
is properly lost which is past all recovery, which we are out of hope to 
see any more. It is not so with this friend thou mournest for ; he is but 
gone home a little before thee ; thou art following him, you two shall meet 
in your Father's house, and enjoy each other more happily than you could 
have done here below. — Robert Hall. 



To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die. 

— Alexander Campbell. 



THE USE OF AFFLICTIONS. 



AFFLICTION shows us the darkness of the world and the brightness of 
Heaven, and they stimulate to perseverance unto death, in order to 
receive the radiant crown of everlasting life ; they are designed to brighten 




J~7<z>ih)ir)q Will k)ie. 

There is no death ! The leaves may fall, 
And flowers may fade and pass away ; 

They only wait through wintry hours. 
The coming of the May. — Buhver Lytton. 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 563, 



the graces of God's people — to strengthen their faith and patience. — W. 
Nicholson. 



Sanctified afflictions are evidences of our adoption ; we do not prune 
dead trees to make them fruitful, nor those planted in a desert ; but such 
only as belong to the garden, and possess life. — J. Arrozvsmitk. 



THE HOME OF PERFECT REST. 

HAVE you ever thought of these " goings-over " from our homes to the 
Father's home above ? Our homes at the best are unstable, full of 
troubles, annoyances, pains, sicknesses, and the myriad trials of life ; the 
loved one was called away from all these — he or she has gone over to the 
home of perfect rest, peace, joy, happiness, and glory. I think of my little 
babe, who was lifted out of her mother's arms, as saved from all the trials, 
the cares, the sins of life — safe in the arms of Jesus — growing up in that 
home where there are no tears and sorrowing hearts are never known. 



DON'T WISH THEM BACK. 

COULD you be so selfish and so cruel ? Could you wish them back — 
back from the presence of the Lamb — back from the sweets of Glory 
to the bitterness of time — back from those rivers of pure pleasure which 
flow full and large at God's right hand to the streams of mingled enjoyment 
in this vale of sorrow? After they have reached the haven of rest, would 
you recall them to struggle again with the storm ? — G. Whyte. 



ONLY SLEEPING. 

ONLY sleeping. They have only gone an hour or two sooner to bed, as 
children are used to do, and we are undressing to follow. And the 
more we put off the love of the present world, and all things superfluous 
beforehand, we shall have the less to do when we lie down. — Archbishop 
Leighton. 

Afflictions are the medicine of the mind ; if they are not toothsome,. 

it is not required in physic that it should please, but heal. — Bishop Henshazv.. 



;6 4 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



The child is dead ; it lived a little while in a world of which it knew 
nothing, and is gone to another in which it is already become wiser than 
the wisest it has left behind. — Cowper. 

" Be worthy of death, and so learn to live 
That every incarnation of thy soul 
In other realms, and worlds, and firmaments 
Shall be more pure and high." 



Mourn for those who are left ; mourn not for the one taken by God 
from earth ; he has entered into eternal rest, while we are bowed wi th 
sorrow. — Talmud. 



THE JOY IN THE SORROW. 

ONE less at home — one more in Heaven. Does not this truth bring thee 
light in thy darkness, joy in thy sorrow, peace in thy anguish, and 
even rejoicing in thy great bereavement? Think of it! One from thy 
home-circle is now one more added to the white-robed throng of Heaven. — 
Joseph T. Wright. 

The Lord blows off the blossoms of our hopes in this life and lops 
the branches of our worldly joys to the very root, on purpose that they 
should not thrive. Lord, spoil my fool's heaven for this life, that I may be 
saved forever. — Rutherford. 



THE SAINTED WATCHERS. 

WITHDRAW not your mysterious presence from me, ye sainted 
watchers ! Ye have been an host around me, that came at the call of \ 
faith, in those loveliest hours of my life, while engaged in setting down the 
thoughts of this book. Look still on me through the veil, and let me still 
feel the calming influence of your blessed communion. Leave me not 
alone! The earth is gloomy and sad from the curse. It shines but as a cold 
moon, with a borrowed light. My soul is weary of these storm-swept 
solitudes outside of Holy Eden. Hail! ye far-off lands of light! Hail! ye 
happy dwellers in the peaceful Salem of purity and love ! " Oh, that I had 
wings like a dove ! for then would I fly away and be at rest." — Harbaugh. 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 56; 



NO ROSE WITHOUT A THORN. 

THERE is no rose without a thorn ; 
Who has not found this true, 
And knows that griefs of gladness born 

Our footsteps still pursue ? 
That in the grandest harmony, 

The strangest discords rise, 
The brightest bow we only trace 
Upon the darkest skies. 



I look to recognize again, through the beautiful mask of their perfection, 

The dear familiar faces I have somewhile loved on earth ; 

I long to talk with grateful tongue of storms and perils past, 

And praise the mighty Pilot that hath steered us through the rapids. 

— M. F. Tupper. 

All is not over with earth's broken tie — 

Where, where should sisters love, if not on high . 

— Mrs. Hetnans* 



SWEET CONVERSE. 

'HE saints on earth, when sweetly they converse, 
And the dear favors of kind Heaven rehearse, 
Each feels the other's joys, both doubly share 
The blessings which devoutly they compare. 
If saints such mutual joy feel here below, 
When they each other's heavenly foretastes know, 
What joys transport them at each other's sight, 
When they shall meet in empyreal height ! 
Friends, even in Heaven, one happiness would miss 
Should they not know each other when in bliss. 

—Bishop Ken. 



SEPARATION NOT FOREVER. 

THE thought that the separation made by death between us and our 
friends is forever, adds the sting of despair to the wound of affliction ; 
"but the hope of reunion after life's remaining ills are past, is like healing 



566 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



oil to the wounded heart. Our faith follows them within the veil, and sees 
them blest. Instead of a sad thought, it is rather a pleasant one. For — 

Tis sweet, as year by year we lose 
Friends out of sight, in faith to muse 
How grows in Paradise our store. 

— H. Harbaugh. 

THE BENEFITS OF TRIAL. 

STARS shine brightest in the darkest night ; torches are the better for 
heating; grapes come not to the proof till they come to the press; 
spices smell sweeter when pounded ; vines are the better for bleeding ; 
young trees root the faster for shaking ; gold looks the brighter for scouring ; 
glow-worms glisten best in the dark ; juniper smells sweetest in the fire; 
pomander becomes most fragrant for chasing ; the palm-tree proves the 
better for pressing ; chamomile, the more you tread it, the more you spread 
it. Such is the condition of all God's children ; they are the most triumphant 
when most tempted, most glorious when most afflicted, most in the favor of 
God when least in man's ; as their conflicts, so their conquests ; as their 
tribulations, so their triumphs. True salamanders, that live best in the 
furnace of persecution ; so that heavy afflictions are the best benefactors to 
heavenly affections. And when afflictions hang heaviest, corruptions hang, 
loosest ; and grace that is hid in Nature, as sweet water in rose-leaves, is 
then most fragrant when the fire of affliction is put under to distil it 
out. — Spencer. 

TRIALS BLESSINGS. 

TRIAL brings a man face to face with God — God and he touch ; and the 
flimsy veil of bright cloud that hung between him and the sky is 
blown away ; he feels that he is standing outside the earth, with nothing 
between him and the Eternal Infinite. Oh, there is something in the sick- 
bed, and the aching heart, and the restlessness and the languor of shattered 
health, and the sorrows of affections withered, and the stream of life 
poisoned at its fountain, and the cold, lonely feeling of utter rawness of 
heart which is felt when God strikes home in earnest, that forces a man to 
feel what is real and what is not. — F. W. Robertson. 

Fire and hammer and file are necessary to give the metal form ; and 
must have many a grind, and many a rub, ere it will shine ; so in trial, 
character is shaped and beautified and brightened. — S. Co ley. 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 567 

GLIMPSES INTO GLORY. 

IT is the broken rock that sends forth streams of living water through the 
wilderness. It is the broken ground that opens its bosom for the 
reception of the incorruptible seed which springs up, and brings forth fruit 
abundantly. It is the broken cloud that discharges itself in showers that 
usher in the spring, and cheer the thirsty ground. It is the broken 
alabaster wherewith the poor penitent anoints the feet of the Saviour, and 
which fills the whole house with the odor of the precious spikenard. It is 
the broken body, which the nails of the cross, and the spear of mortal enemy, 
have pierced, that furnishes the blood that cleanses the soul from all sin. It 
is the broken veil that opens into the holiest of all, and gives to the believ- 
ing soul bright glimpses into the glory that is yet to be revealed. It is the 
broken grave that announces the reality of the Resurrection, and proclaims 
to the unbelieving disciple that the Saviour is risen indeed. It is the broken 
corn that is separated from the chaff, and laid up in the garner of the 
husbandman, or changed into the bread of life. And it is the broken 
berries which the millstones of the olive-press have crushed, that give forth 
the precious oil which fills the dark tabernacle with the radiance of a clear 
and tranquilizing light. — Dr. J. Hamilton. 



The stars shall fade away ; the sun himself 
Grow dim with age, and Nature sink in years, 
But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth, 
Unhurt amidst the war of elements— 
The wreck of matter and the crash of worlds. 

—Robert Pollock. 

My knowledge of that life is small, 

The eye of faith is dim, 
But 'tis enough that Christ knows all, 

And I shall be with him. 

-Baxter. 



THREE WONDERS. 

WHEN I get to Heaven I shall see three wonders there. The first 
wonder will be to see people there that I did not expect ; the second 
wonder will be to miss many persons whom I did expect to see, and the 
third and greatest wonder of all will be to find myself there.— John Newton 



568 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



THREE UNCHANGEABLES. 

WE have, amid all changes, three unchangeables — an unchangeable 
covenant, an unchangeable God, and an unchangeable Heaven ; and 
while these three remain "the same yesterday, to-day, and forever," welcome 
the will of our Heavenly Father in all events that may happen to us. Come 
what will, nothing can come amiss. — Rev. Matthew Henry. 



The love of Heaven makes one heavenly. 

— Shakespeare. 



REASON AND IMMORTALITY. 

THE three states of the caterpillar, larva and butterfly, have, since the 
time of the Greek poets, been applied to typify the human being — its 
terrestrial form, apparent death and ultimate celestial destination ; and it 
seems more extraordinary that a sordid and crawling worm should become 
a beautiful and active fly, that an inhabitant of the dark and fetid dunghill 
should in an instant entirely change its form, rise into the blue air, and 
enjoy the sunbeams, than that a being whose pursuits here have been after 
an undying name, and whose purest happiness has been derived from the 
acquisition of intellectual power and finite knowledge, should rise hereafter 
into a state of being where universality is no longer a name, and ascend to 
the source of unbounded power and infinite wisdom. — Humphry Davy. 



ANNIHILATION HORRIBLE. 

WE wish for immortality. The thought of annihilation is horrible, even 
to conceive it is almost impossible. The wish is a kind of argument; 
it is not likely that God would have given all men such a feeling if he had 
not meant to gratify it. Every natural longing has its natural satisfaction. 
If we thirst, God has created liquids to gratify thirst. If we are susceptible 
of attachment, there are beings to gratify that love. If we thirst for life 
and love eternal, it is likely that there are an eternal life and an eternal 
love to satisfy this craving. — F. W. Robertson. 



A HOLY life has a voice. It speaks when the tongue is silent, and is 
either a constant attraction or a continual reproof. 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 56^ 



o 



HEAVENLY FORETASTES. 

H, blissful scene ! where severed hearts 

Renew the ties most cherished ; 
Where nought the mourned and mourner parts ; 

Where grief with life is perished. 
Oh ! nought do I desire so well, 
As here to die and there to dwell.' 



Oh, wondrous times ! — those palmy days of old : — 

When God with prophets spake, and angels walk'd 

With men — when Heaven, with mild and radiant eye, 

Through dreams, and types, and shadowy visions look'd, 

And smiled on all who sought a better life. 

Though darkly hung the mystic veil that hid 

The better world ; yet, through it, faith beheld, 

On the celestial side, the lovely forms 

Of sainted friends in blessed pastimes move, 

They mourn'd, but still in hope, for those beyond ; 

And, smiling through their tears, in meekness said. 

They can not come to us, but we shall go 

To them. 



In this dark world of sin and pain, 
We only meet to part again ; 
But when we reach the heavenly shore, 
We then shall meet to part no more. 
The hope that we shall see that day, 
Should chase our present griefs away; 
When these few years of pain are past, 
We'll meet around the throne at last. 



Oh ! when a mother meets on high 
The child she lost in infancy ; 

Hath she not then for pains and fears, 
The day of woe, the watchful night, 

For all her sorrows, all her tears, 
An over-payment of delight ? 



570 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



Death's but a path that must be trod 
If man would ever pass to God. 

— Thomas PamelL. 



God gives us ministers of love, 

Which we regard not, being near ; 
Death takes them from us, then we feel 

That angels have been with us here ! 

— James Aldrich. 



"Pis a blessing to live, but a greater to die ; 
And the best of the world, is its path to the sky 

— John K. Mitchell. 



It is little matter at what hour of the day 
The righteous fall asleep. Death can not come 
To him untimely who has learned to die. 
The less of this brief life, the more of Heaven ; 
The shorter time, the longer immortality. 

— Dean Millman. 

I am weary ; I will now go to sleep. Good-night ! 

— Neander. (Dying words.) 



Say not " Good-night," but in some brighter clime 
Bid me " Good-morning." 

— Anna Letitia Barbauld. 



My stricken heart to Jesus yields 

Love's deep devotion now, 
Adores and blesses — while it bleeds— 

His hand that strikes the blow. 
Then fare thee well — a little while, 

Life's troubled dream is past, 
And I shall meet with thee, my child, 

In life — in bliss, at last ! 



M 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 571 

THROUGH THE CURTAIN. 

I. 
Y dearest Baby, playing- in the room, 

Runs through a curtain — parting as she goes 
And falling to again — and on tip-toes 
She stands, looks back, and says "all gone," and night 
And silence are where there were speech and light ; 
And 1 stand, waiting, in the growing gloom. 
But in a moment comes a little hand, 
Puts back the curtain, and that sweetest face 
Smile-wreathed, and with a look of glad surprise 
Beaming and brimming in the dear blue eyes, 
Comes towards me as fast as running feet can race, 
And falling in my own wide arms' embrace, 
Says " O," as if she thought I would not stand, 
And wait for her, wuL patience, in my place. 

II. 

THROUGH " THE VEIL." 

My dearer darling ! Whose sweet presence made 

My work-time, play-time, and filled earth with light ; 

I saw the veil lift, through which, out of sight 

You passed, and as it fell, there fell the shade 

Of sorrow, silence, solitude, and night. 

"All gone? " I know God would not let that be ! 

I know that only to another room 

Of the dear Father's House, thy soul hath come. 

I know it but an instant seems to thee, 

Till, through the veil uplifted then for me, 

Thy voice shall fill my ear, thyself my eyes ! 

Shall it then stir in thee, love's sweet surprise 

To know, that since you passed, in the same place 

You left me I have waited for thy face ? 

— Bishop Doane. 

SHALL "WE KNOW EACH OTHER THERE ? 



w 



HEN we hear the music ringing 
In the bright celestial dome — 
When sweet angels' voices, singing, 
Gladly bid us welcome home 



572 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

To the land of ancient story, 
Where the spirit knows no care ; 

In that land of life and glory — ■ 
Shall we know each other there ? 

When the holy angels meet us, 

As we go to join their band, 
Shall we know the friends that greet us 

In that glorious spirit-land ? 
Shall we see the same eyes shining 

On us as in days of yore ? 
Shall we feel the dear arms twining 

Fondly round us as before ? 

Yes, my earth-worn soul rejoices, 

And my weary heart grows light, 
For the thrilling angel voices 

And the angel faces bright, 
That shall welcome us in Heaven, 

Are the loved of long ago ; 
And to them 'tis kindly given 

Thus their mortal friends to know. 

Oh, ye weary, sad, and tossed ones, 

Droop not, faint not by the way ! 
Ye shall join the loved and just ones, 

In that land of perfect day. 
Harp-strings, touched by angel fingers, 

Murmured in my raptured ear — 
Evermore their sweet song lingers — 

" We shall know each other there." 



HEAVENLY RECOGNITION. 

MY heaven is not a fog-bank. My eyes are unto the hills, the everlasting 
hills. The King's ferry-boat, starting from a wharf on this side, will 
go to a wharf on the other side. 

Our arrival will not be like stepping ashore at Antwerp or Constanti- 
nople, among a crowd of strangers ; it will be among friends, good friends, 
warm-hearted friends, and all their friends. 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 573 

We know people whom we have never seen, by hearing somebody 
talk about them very much ; we know them almost as well as if we had 
seen them. And do you not suppose that our parents and brothers and 
sisters and children in Heaven have been talking about us all these years, 
and talking to their friends ? so that, I suppose, when we cross the river at 
last, we shall not only be met by all those Christian friends whom we knew 
on earth, but by all their friends. They will come down to the landing to 
meet us. Your departed friends love you more now than they ever did. 
You will be surprised at the last to find how they know about all the affairs 
of your life. Why they are only across the ferry, and the boat is coming 
this way, and the boat is going that way. I do not know but that they have 
already asked the Lord the day, the hour, the moment, when you are coming 
across, and that they know now ; but I do know that you will be met at the 
landing. The poet Southey said he thought he should know Bishop Heber 
in Heaven by the portraits he had seen of him in London ; and Dr. Randolph 
said he thought he would know William Cowper, the poet, in Heaven, from 
the pictures he had seen of him in England ; but we will know our departed 
kindred by the portraits hung in the throne-room of our hearts. 

On star-light nights you look up — and I suppose it is so with any one 
who has friends in Heaven — on star-light nights you look up, and you 
can not help but think of those who have gone ; and I suppose they look 
down and can not but think of us. But they have the advantage of us. 
We know not just where their world of joy is; they know where we are. 

Oh, glorious consolation, that when our poor work on earth is done 
and we cross the river, we shall be met at the landing. — Talmage. 



DEPARTED FRIENDS. 

HOW natural it is when we gaze upon the bright skies in a beautiful 
star-light night, to think of the spirits of the dead ! This all have 
experienced. Then what a feeling comes over us, strangely made up of 
silent dread, inward joy, and holy longing. The poem we here introduce, 
was written under the influence of such a night scene, and commends itself 
jo the heart. 

Whoever looked upon yon starry spheres, 

Which brightly shine from out the dark blue sky, 



574 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

Nor call'd to mind the friends of other years, 
The hopes, the joys, the transient smiles and tears, 
Gushing from out where buried memories lie, 
And waking the full heart to highest ecstasy ! 

Oh, what a glorious vision, when the moon, 
Silently gliding through her pathless way, 
Has reached the extremest point of her high noon, 
Shedding o'er this our earth her radiant boon, 
While twinkling stars, and orbs of steadier ray, 
Shine with a light that mocks the intenser glare of day ! 

Oh, who has ever gazed on such a scene, 

Nor thought the spirits of the blest were there ? 
"Who, that beholds not, in that blue serene, 
Bright isles, the abode of pleasures yet unseen 
Except by those who, freed from mortal care, 
Have winged their raptur'd flight to realms of upper air ! 

The mother, who has watched with sleepless eye 

Her babe, and rocked with tireless foot the while, 
And when she saw the little sufferer die, 
Bowed her meek head and wept in agony, 
Fancies she hears, in yonder starry isle, 
Her little cherub's voice, and sees his angel smile. 

Oh, ye departed spirits of my sires, 

And ye, the loved ones of my childhood's days, 
While now I look on yonder heavenly fires, 
Methinks I hear you tune your seraph lyres, 
Methinks I see you bend your, pitying gaze 
On him who still must tread alone earth's gloomy maze! 

Thou angel spirit, who so oft didst sing 

My infant cares to sleep upon thy breast, 
Let me but hear the rustling of thy wing, 
Around thy child its guardian influence fling ! 
Oh, come thou from the island of the blest, 
And bear my weary soul up to thy sainted rest. 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 575 



Can we forget departed friends ? Ah, no ! 

Within our hearts their memory buried lies ; 

The thought that, where they are, we too shall go 

Will cast a light o'er darkest scenes of woe ; 

For, to their own blest dwellings in the skies, 

The souls whom Christ sets free exultingly shall rise. 



WEEP NOT FOR THE DEAD. 

IF we have tears to weep, let it be 'for the wretched on earth, and not for 
those who rest from their toils and woes. Weep for the dead who are 
dead in sin, not for the living who are alive and blest in Heaven. And you, 
who have never been made alive in Christ Jesus, weep for yourselves. Go 
not to the tomb where the ashes of buried love repose — where a kindred 
saint sleeps in Jesus as in a downy bed — but go to the cross, and weep tears 
of penitence over your sins, till Jesus wipes them away. 

Oh, weep not for the dead ! 
Rather, oh ! rather give the tear 
To those that darkly linger here, 

When all besides are fled. 
Weep for the spirit withering 
In its cold, cheerless sorrowing ; 
Weep for the young and lovely one, 
That ruin darkly revels on ; 

But never be a tear-drop shed 

For them, the pure enfranchised dead ! 



NO SORROW THERE. 

THIS earthly life has been fitly characterized as a pilgrimage through a 
vale of tears. In the language of poetry, man himself has been called 
a pendulum betwixt a smile and a tear. Everything in this world" is 
characterized by imperfection. The best people have many faults. The 
clearest mind only sees through a glass darkly. The purest heart is not 
without spot. All the intercourse of society, all the transactions of business, 
all our estimates of human conduct and motive must be based upon the 
sad assumption that we can not wholly trust either ourselves or our fellow- 
men. Every heart has its grief, every house has its skeleton, every 



5/6 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

character is marred with weakness and imperfection. And all these aimless 
conflicts of our minds and unanswered longings of our hearts should lead us 
to rejoice the more in the Divine assurance that a time is coming when night 
shall melt into noon, and the mystery shall be clothed with glory. — Daniel 
March. 

ERRANDS OF LOVE. 

Smitten friends 
Are angels sent on errands full of love ; 
For us they languish, and for us they die. 
And shall they languish, shall they die in vain ? 
Ungrateful shall we grieve their hovering shades, 
Which wait the revolution in our hearts ? 
Shall we disdain their silent soft address ; 
Their posthumous advice, and pious prayer ; 
Senseless as herds which graze their hallowed graves, 
Tread under foot their agonies and groans, 
Frustrate their anguish, and destroy their deaths ? 



MY BOY! 



T KNOW his face is hid 
I Under the coffin lid ; 
Closed are his eyes ; cold is his forehead fair ; 
My hand that marble felt, 
O'er it in prayer I knelt ; 
Yet my heart whispers that — he is not there 

Not there ?— Where, then, is he ? 

The form I used to see 
Was but the raiment that he used to wear. 

The grave that now doth press 

Upon that cast-off dress, 
Is but his wardrobe locked ; — he is not there 1 

He lives ! — In all the past 

He lives ; nor, to the last, 
Of seeing him again will I despair ; 

In dreams I see him now, 

And on his angel brow, 
I see it written, " Thou shalt see me there !" 



THE FUTURE LIFE. $7T 



Yes, we all live to God ! 

Father, thy chastening rod 
So help us, thine afflicted ones, to bear, 

That in the spirit-land, 

Meeting at Thy right hand, 
Twill be our Heaven to find that — He is there ! 



NOT LOST, BUT GONE BEFORE. 

FRIEND after friend departs ; 
Who hath not lost a friend ? 
There is no union here of hearts, 

That finds not here an end ; 
Were this frail world our final rest, 
Living or dying none were blest. 

Beyond the flight of time, 

Beyond the reign of death, 
There surely is some blessed clime, 

Where life is not a breath ; 
Nor life's affections transient fire 

Whose sparks fly upward and expire. 

There is a world above, 

Where parting is unknown; 
A long eternity of love, 

Formed for the good alone ; 
And faith beholds the dying here, 

Translated to that glorious sphere. 

Thus star by star declines, 

'Till all are passed away, 
As morning high and higher shines, 

To pure and perfect day ; 
Nor sink those stars in empty night, 

But hide themselves in Heaven's own light. 

— Montgomery. 



578 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



LOVE INDESTRUCTIBLE. 

'HEY sin who tell us love can die; 

With life all other passions fly, 

All others are but vanity. 

In Heaven ambition can not dwell ; 

Nor avarice in the vaults of hell ; 

Earthly these passions of the earth, 

They perish where they have their birth ; 

But Love is indestructible. 

Its holy flame for ever burneth, 

From Heaven it came, to Heaven returneth ; 

Too oft on earth a troubled guest, 

At times deceived, at times opprest, 

It here is tried and purified, 

Then hath in Heaven its perfect rest. 

It soweth here in toil and care, 

But the harvest time of love is there. 

Oh ! when a mother meets on high 

The babe she lost in infancy, 

Hath she not then, for pains and fears, 

The day of woe, the watchful night, 

For all her sorrows, all her tears, 

An overpayment of delight ? 



SAINTS WILL DWELL TOGETHER. 

ACCORDING to the representations contained in the Holy Scriptures, the 
saints will dwell together in the future world, and form, as it were, a 
kingdom or state of God. They will there partake of a common felicity. 
Their enjoyment will doubtless be very much heightened by friendship and 
by their confiding intercourse with each other. We must, however, separate 
all earthly imperfection from our conceptions of this heavenly society. But 
that we shall there recognize our former friends, and shall be again 
associated with them, was uniformly believed by all antiquity. This idea 
was admitted as altogether rational, and as a consoling thought, by the 
most distinguished ancient philosophers. Even reason regards this as in a 
high degree probable ; but, to one who believes the Holy Scriptures, it 
can not be a matter of doubt and conjecture. 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 579; 



W 



NO CAUSE FOR WOE. 

EEP not for her! There is no cause for woe; 

But rather nerve thy spirit, that it walk 
Unshrinking o'er the thorny paths below, 

And from earth's low defilements keep thee back: 
So, when a few fleet severing years have flown, 

She'll meet thee at Heaven's gate — and lead thee on! 
Weep not for her ! 



WHEN SHALL WE MEET AGAIN. 



W 



HEN shall we meet again? 

Meet ne'er to sever? 
When will peace wreathe her chain 

Round us for ever? 
Our hearts will ne'er repose 
Safe from each blast that blows 
In this dark vale of woes — 

Never — no, Never ! 

When shall love freely flow, 

Pure as life's river? 
When shall sweet friendship glow, 

Changeless for ever? 
Where joys celestial thrill, 
Where bliss each heart shall fill, 
And fears of parting chill — 

Never —no, Never ! 

Up to that world of light, 

Take us, dear Saviour ; 
May we all there unite, 

Happy, for ever : 
Where kindred spirits dwell, 
There may our music swell, 
And time our joys dispel — ■ 

Never — no, Never! 

Soon shall we meet again — 
Meet ne'er to sever, 



5ft> THE FUTURE LIFE. 



Soon will peace wreathe her chain 

Round us for ever : 
Our hearts will then repose 
Secure from worldly woes : 
Our songs of praise shall close — 

Never — no, Never ! 



o 



FAREWELL, BELOVED, FAREWELL. 

woman, with the soft sad eye 
y Of spiritual gleam ! 
Tell me, of those bright realms on high, 
How doth thy deep heart dream? 

By thy sweet mournful voice I know, 

Oh thy pale brow I see, 
That thou has loved in silent woe, 

Say, what is Heaven to thee ? 

" Oh ! Heaven is where no secret dread, 
May haunt Love's meeting-hour ; 

Where from the past no gloom is shed 
O'er the heart's chosen bower. 

" Where every severed wreath is bound; 

And none have heard the knell 
That smites the soul in that wild sound — 

Farewell! Beloved, farewell!" 



— Mrs. He mans. 



SLEEP ON, MY BABE. 

SLEEP on, my babe ! thy little bed 
Is cold, indeed, and narrow ; 
Yet calmly there shall rest thy head, 
And neither mortal pain nor dread 
Shall e'er thy feelings harrow ! 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 581 



Thou may'st no more return to me, 

But there's a time, my dearest, 

When I shall lay me down by thee, 

And when of all, my babe shall be 

That sleep around, the nearest ! 

And sound our sleep shall be, my child, 

Were earth's foundation shaken ; 
Till He, the pure, the undefiled, 
Who once, like thee, an infant smiled, 
The dead to life awaken ! 

Then, if to Him, with faith sincere, 

My babe at death was given, 
The kindred tie that bound us here, 
Though rent apart with many a tear, 

Shall be renewed in Heaven ! 

— R. Huie. 



WHERE YOUR BABE IS. 

Ye who mourn 
Whene'er yon vacant cradle, or the robes 
That decked the lost one's form, call back a tide 
Of alienated joy, can ye not trust 
Your treasure to His arms, whose changeless care 
Passeth a mother's love ! Can ye not hope, 
When a few hastening years their course have run, 
To go to him, though he no more on earth 
Returns to you ? 

And when glad faith doth catch 
Some echo of celestial harmonies, 
Archangel's praises, with the high response 
Of cherubim, and seraphim, oh think — 
Think that your babe is there / 



.582 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



JERUSALEM ABOVE. 

BRIEF life is here our portion, 
Brief sorrow, short-lived care, 
That life that knows no ending, 
The tearless life, is there. 

happy retribution ! 
Short toil, eternal rest, 

For mortals and for sinners 

A mansion with the blest ! 
That we should look, poor wand'rers, 

To have our home on high ! 
That worms should seek for dwellings 

Beyond the starry sky ! 
Jerusalem the golden, 

With milk and honey blest, 
Beneath thy contemplation 

Sink heart and voice oppress'd : 

1 know not, oh I know not, 
What social joys are there; 

What radiance of glory, 

What light beyond compare ; 
And when I fain would sing them, 

My spirit fails and faints ; 
And vainly would it image 

The assembly of the saints. 
They stand, those halls of Sion, 

Con jubilant with song. 
And bright with many an angel, 

And all the martyr throng: 
The Prince is ever in them ; 

The daylight is serene ; 
The pastures of the Blessed 

Are deck'd in glorious sheen. 
There is the Throne of David, — 

And there, from care released, 
The song of them that triumph, 

The shout of them that feast; 
And they who, with their Leader, 

Have conquer'd in the fight, 
For ever and for ever 

Are clad in robes of white ! 



T 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 583 



HOW THE GATES CAME AJAR. 

WAS whispered one morning in Heaven, 

How the little child-angel May, 
In the shade of the great white portal 

Sat sorrowing night and day. 
How she said to the stately warden — 

He of the key and bar — 
Oh angel, sweet angel ! I pray you, 

Set the beautiful gates ajar — 
Only a little, won't you 

Set the beautiful gates ajar! 



' I can hear my mother weeping ; 

She is lonely; she can not see 
A glimmer of light in the darkness 

When the gates shut after me. 
Oh, turn me the key, sweet angel, 

The splendor will shine so far!" 
But the warden answered, " I dare not 

Set the beautiful gates ajar." 
Spoke low and answered : " I dare not 

Set the beautiful gates ajar." 

Then up rose Mary the Blessed, 

Sweet Mary, Mother of Christ ; 
Her hand on the hand of the angel 

She laid, and the touch sufficed. 
Turned was the key in the portal, 

Fell ringing the golden bar ; 
And lo ! in the little child's fingers 

Stood the beautiful gates ajar! 

' And the key for no further using, 
To my Blessed Son shall be given," 
Said Mary, Mother of Jesus — 
Tenderest heart in Heaven. 
Now, never a sad-eyed mother 
But may catch the glory afar; 



584 THE FUTURE LIFE. 

Since safe in the Lord Christ's bosom 
Are the keys of the gates ajar; 

Close hid in the dear Christ's bosom ; 
And the gates forever ajar! 



DEATH NOT AN ENEMY. 

DEATH to them that be God's dear children is no other thing than the 
despatcher of all displeasure, the end of all travail, the door of desires, 
the gate of gladness, the port of paradise, the haven of Heaven, the entrance 
to felicity, the beginning of all blissfulness. It is the very bed of down for 
the doleful bodies of God's people to rest in, out of which they rise and 
awake most fresh and lusty to everlasting life. It is a passage to the 
Father, a chariot to Heaven, the Lord's messenger, a going to our home, a 
deliverance from bondage, a dismission from war, a security from all 
sorrows, and a manumission from all misery. And should we be dismayed 
at it? Should we trouble to hear of it? Should such a friend as it be 
unwelcome? Death is but life to a true believer; it is not his last day, nor 
his worst day, but in the highest sense his best day, and the beginning of 
his better life. A Christian's dying day will be his enlarging day, when he 
shall be freed from the prison in which he has long been detained, and be 
brought home to his Father's house. A Christian's dying day will be his 
resting day, when he shall rest from all sin and care and trouble ; his reaping 
day, when he shall reap the fruit he has sown in tears and faith ; his 
conquering day, when he shall triumph over every enemy, and even death 
itself shall die ; his transplanting day, from earth to Heaven, from a howling 
wilderness to a heavenly paradise ; his robing day, to put off the old worn 
out rags of flesh, and put on the new and glorious robes of light ; his 
coronation day, when he will be crowned with immortal glory and youth. 



DEATH A LEVELLER. 

AS in chess-play, so long as the game is playing, all the men stand in 
their order and are respected according to their places — first the king, 
then the queen, then the bishops, after them the knights, and last of all the 
common soldiers ; but when once the game is ended and the table taken 
away, then they are all confusedly tumbled into a bag, and haply the king 
is lowest and the pawn upmost. Even so it is with us in this life; the world 



THE FUTURE LIFE 585 

is a huge theatre, or stage, wherein some play the parts of kings, others of 
"bishops, some lords, many knights, and others yeomen ; but death sends all 
alike to the grave and to the judgment. 

Death comes equally to us all and makes us all equal when it comes. 



TELL, IF THOU KNOWEST. 

"OCEPTIC, whoe'er thou art, tell, if thou knowest, 
O Why every nation, every clime, though all 
In laws, in rites, in manners disagree, 
With one consent expect another world 
Where wickedness shall weep? Why in each heart 
Is placed a friendly monitor, that prompts, 
Informs, directs, encourages, forbids ? 
Tell, why on unknown evil grief attends, 
Or joy on secret good ? Why conscience acts 
With ten-fold force when sickness, age, or pain 
Stands tottering on the precipice of death ? 
Or why such horror gnaws the guilty soul 
Of dying sinners, while the good man sleeps 
Peaceful and calm, and with a smile expires ?" 

— Glynn. 



THERE'S A SILVER LINING TO EVERY CLOUD. 



T 



HE poet or priest who told us this 

Served mankind in the holiest way, 
For it lit up the earth with the star of bliss 

That beacons the soul with cheerful ray. 
Too often we wander despairing and blind, 

Breathing our useless murmurs aloud ; 
But 'tis kinder to bid us to seek and find 

' A silver lining to every cloud." 

May we not walk in the dingle ground 

Where nothing but autumn's dead leaves are seen, 
But search beneath them, and peeping around 

Are the young spring tufts of blue and green. 
3ft 



586 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



'Tis a beautiful eye that ever perceives 

The presence of God in mortality's crowd ; 
'Tis a saving creed that thinks and believes 

" There's a silver lining to every cloud." 

Let us look closely before we condemn 

Bushes that bear nor bloom nor fruit, 
There may not be beauty in leaves or stem, 

But virtue may dwell far down at the root ; 
And let us beware how we utterly spurn 

Brothers that seem all cold and proud, 
If their bosoms were opened, perchance we might learn 

" There's a silver lining to every cloud." 

Let us not cast out mercy and truth, 

When guilt is before us in chains and shame. 
When passion and vice have cankered youth, 

And age lives on with a branded name ; 
Something of good may still be there, 

Though its voice may never be heard aloud, 
For while black with the vapors of pestilent air, 

" There's a silver lining to every cloud." 

Sad are the sorrows that oftentimes come, 

Heavy and dull and blighting and chill, 
Shutting the light from our heart and our home, 

Marring our hopes and defying our will ; 
But let us not sink beneath the woe, 

'Tis well perchance we are tried and bowed, 
For be sure, though we may not oft see it below, 

" There's a silver lining to every cloud." 

And when stern death, with skeleton hand, 

Has snatched the flower that grew in our breast, 
Do we not think of a fairer land, 

Where the lost are found, and the weary at rest ! 
Oh, the hope of the unknown future springs 

In its purest strength o'er the coffin and shroud ! 
The shadow is dense, but faith's spirit-voice sings 

" There's a silver lining to every cloud." 

— Eliza Cook. 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 587 



REVELATION AND IMMORTALITY. 

PRECIOUS Revelation! May it soon shine with full-orbed splendor 
throughout the habitable world ! " Oh ! you have only to think what 
a change would pass on the aspect of our race, if the Bible were suddenly 
withdrawn, and all remembrance of it swept away, and you arrive at some 
faint notion of the worth of the volume. Take from Christendom the Bible, 
and you have taken the moral chart by which alone its population can be 
guided. Ignorant of the nature of God, and only guessing at their immor- 
tality, the tens of thousands would be as mariners, tossed on a wide ocean, 
without a pole-star, and without a compass. The blue lights of the storm- 
fiend would burn ever in the shrouds, and when the tornado of death rushed 
across the waters, there would be heard nothing but the shrieks of the 
terrified, and the groans of the despairing. It were to mantle the earth with 
a more than Egyptian darkness, it were to dry up the fountains of human 
happiness, it were to take the tides from our waters and leave them stagnant, 
and the stars from our heavens and leave them in sackcloth, and the verdure 
from our valleys and leave them in barrenness — it were to make the present 
all recklessness and the future all hopelessness, the maniac's revelry, and 
then the fiend's imprisonment — if you could annihilate that precious volume 
which tells us of God and of Christ, and unveils immortality, and instructs 
in duty, and wooes to glory." 



WEARY. 



WOULD have gone; God bade me stay: 
I would have work'd; God bade me rest. 

He broke my will from day to day ; 
He read my yearnings unexpress'd, 
And said them nay. 

Now I would stay; God bids me go : 
Now I would rest; God bids me work. 

He breaks my heart toss'd to and fro; 
My soul is wrung with doubts that lurk 
And vex it so ! 

I go, Lord, where Thou sendest me ; 
Day after day I plod and moil ; 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 



But, Christ my God, when will it be 
That I may let alone my toil, 
And rest with Thee ? 

— Christina Georgina Rossetti. 



w 



WEEP NO MORE. 

EEP no more, nor sigh, nor groan, 
Sorrow calls no time that's gone ; 
Violets pluck'd, the sweetest rain 
Makes not fresh nor grow again ; 
Trim thy locks, look cheerfully, 
Fate's hidden ends eyes cannot see; 
Joys as winged dreams fly fast, 
Why should sadness longer last? 
Grief is but a wound to woe ; 
Gentlest fair one, mourn no mo. 

— John Fletcher. 



AS GOD PLEASES. 

ONE of Martin Luther's children lay on her death-bed ; the great man 
approached her and said to her: "My little daughter, my beloved 
Margaret, you would willingly remain with your earthly parents, but if God 
calls you, you will go with your Heavenly Father." " Yes, dear father, it is 
as God pleases." He then said : " My daughter, enter thou into thy resting- 
place in peace." She turned her eyes toward him and said, with touching 
simplicity : " Yes, father." How resignedly could the believing Luther part 
with his dying child, and methinks the sentiment of his heart was very like 
the inscription on a child's tombstone in an English churchyard, as follows : 
" 'Who plucked that flower?' cried the gardener, as he walked through the 
garden. His fellow-servant answered: 'The Master.' And the gardener 
held his peace." 

HEAVEN A HOME. 

HOME! oh, how sweet is that word! what beautiful and tender associa- 
tions cluster thick around it ; compared with it, house, mansion, palace 
are cold, heartless terms. But home! that word quickens the pulse, warms 
the heart, stirs the soul to its depths, makes age feel young again, rouses 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 589 

apathy into energy, sustains the sailor in his midnight watch, inspires the 
soldier with courage on the field of battle, and imparts patient endurance 
to the worn-down sons of toil. The thought of it has proved a seven-fold 
shield to virtue ; the very name of it has a spell to call back the wanderer 
from the paths of vice ; and far away, where myrtles bloom, and palm-trees 
wave, and the ocean sleeps upon coral strands, to the exile's fond fancy it 
clothes the naked rock, or stormy shore, or barren moor, or wild highland 
mountain with charms he weeps to think of, and longs once more to see. 
Grace sanctifies these lovely affections, and imparts a sacredness to the 
homes of earth by making them types of Heaven. As a home the believer 
delights to think of it. Thus, when lately bending over a dying saint, and 
expressing our sorrow to see him lay so low, with the radiant countenance 
rather of one who had just left Heaven than of one about to enter it, he 
raised and clasped his hands, and exclaimed, in ecstasy: " I am going home." 
— Thomas Guthrie. 



A PREPARATION ON PREPARATION FOR DEATH. 

LORD, what is our life but a vapor that appears for a little time and 
then vanisheth away ! Even at the longest, how short ! and at the 
strongest, how frail! and when we think ourselves most secure, yet we 
know not what a day may bring forth, nor how soon thou mayest come to 
call us to our last account. Quickly shall we be as water spilt on the 
ground, that can not be gathered up again ; quickly snatched away from 
hence, and our place here shall know us no more forever. Our days, one 
after another, are spent apace ; and we- know not how near to us is our last 
day, when our bodies shall be laid in the grave, and our souls be called to 
appear at the tribunal of God, to receive their eternal doom. Yet how have 
I lived in this world, as if I should never leave it; how unmindful of my 
latter end! how improvident of my time ! how careless of my soul! how 
negligent in my preparation for my everlasting condition ! so that Thou 
mayest justly bring my last hour as a snare upon me, to surprise me in my 
sins, and to cut me off in my iniquities. But, O, Father of mercies, 
remember not my sins against me ; but remember Thy own tender mercies 
and Thy loving kindnesses, which have been ever of old. O, remember how 
short my time is, and spare me, that I may recover strength before I go 
hence and be no more seen. Make me so wise as to consider my latter end, 
and teach me so to number my days that I may apply my heart to true 
wisdom. Lord, what have I to do in this world but to make ready for the 
world to come ! O, that I may be mindful of it, and be careful to finish my 
work before I finish my course ! 



59Q THE FUTURE LIFE. 



In the days of my health and prosperity, oh, that I may remember 
and provide for the time of trouble, and sickness, and death, when the 
world's enjoyments will shrink away from me, and prove utterly unable to 
support and comfort me. Let me never allow myself in any course of living 
wherein I would be loth or afraid to die; but let me see my corruptions 
mortified and subdued, that they may never rise up in judgment against 
me. Enable me so to die unto sin daily that I may not die for sin eternally. 
Instruct me, good Lord, and assist me in my preparation for a dying hour, 
that I may not then be fully surprised, but may meet it with comfort and 
composure. Quicken me to a serious concern about that great work, and 
help me to perform it acceptably and with good success. Oh, that I may 
be fitted for Heaven ere I leave this world, and may have peace with God 
through Jesus Christ before I depart hence into that state in which I must 
abide forever. O, my Lord, make me so ready to meet Thee at Thy coming 
that Thine appearance may be the matter of my hopes, and desires, and 
joyful expectations; that I may look and long for that blessed time when 
Thou wilt put an everlasting period to all my troubles and temptations, and 
exchange my present state of infirmity and sin for a state of endless happi- 
ness and glory. O, Thou, who art my life and my strength, help me so to 
live as, at the hour of death, I shall wish I had lived ; and so to make ready 
for death all my days that at my last day I may have nothing to do but to 
die, and cheerfully to resign my spirit into Thy gracious hands. 0, my 
Father, hear and answer my humble petitions, and let me find a merciful 
admission to Thy favor and Thy kingdom, for the sake of Jesus Christ. 
Amen. — B. Jenks. 



Sometimes a man is sent to the Polar regions of scepticism, reaping 
ice for his own soul, and again brought back to be a pilot for others through 
that northwest passage of the soul. 

God allows each man to spin his own thread of action in this life, and 
yet He binds all the threads of man's action into the cable which draws on 
the chariot of his purposes. 

Deride not any man's deformities, but bless God that they are not 
yours. Men shall answer at God's bar for their vicious habits, but not for 
their natural imperfections. 

I think the first virtue is to restrain the tongue. He approaches 
nearest to the gods who knows how to be silent, even though he is in the 
right. 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 591 



O 



SWEET TO DIE. 

IT is sweet to die, — to part from earth., — 
And win all heaven for things of idle worth ! 
Then sure thou wouldst not, though thou couldst, awake 
The little slumberer, for its mother's sake. 
It is when those we love, in death depart, 
That earth has slightest hold upon th'e heart. 
Hath not bereavement higher wishes taught, 
And purified from earth, thine earth-born thought ? 
I know it hath. Hope then appears more dear, 
And Heaven's bright realms shine brightest through a tear. 
Though it be hard to bid thy heart divide, 
And lay the gem of all thy love aside — 
Faith tells thee, and it tells thee not in vain, 
That thou shalt meet thine infant yet again. 



FRIENDSHIP PERPETUAL. 

GO where we will, we find the sentiment that friendship is perpetuated 
beyond the grave. It is enshrined in the heart of our common 
Christianity. The pure unsophisticated belief of the vast majority of the 
followers of Christ is in union with the yearnings of natural affection, 
which follows its object through the portals of the grave into the eternal 
world. What but this causes the Christian parent, in the dying hour, to 
charge his beloved children to prepare for a reunion before the throne of 
the Lamb ? He desires to meet them there, and to rejoice with them in 
the victory over sin and death. The widow bending in bitter bereavement 
over the grave of him whom God has taken, meekly puts the cup of sorrow 
to her lips, with the assured confidence that the separation wrought by 
death is transient, and that they who sleep in Jesus shall together inherit 
the rest that remaineth for the people of God. Thus the wormwood and 
the gall are tempered by the sweet balm of hope, and Heaven wins the 
attraction which earth has lost. Tell me, you who have seen the open 
tomb receive into its bosom the sacred trust committed to its keeping in 
hope of the first Resurrection— you who have heard the sullen rumbling of 
the death-clods as they dropped upon the coffin lid, and told you that earth 
had gone back to earth, when the separation from the object of } r our love 



592 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



was realized in all the desolation of bereavement, next to the thought that 
ere long you should see Christ as He is and be like Him, was not that 
consolation the strongest which assured you that the departed one whom 
God had put from you into darkness, would run to meet you when you 
crossed the threshold of mortality, and with the holy rapture to which the 
redeemed alone can give utterance, lead you to the exalted Saviour, and 
with you bow at His feet, and cast the conqueror's crown before Him. — 
/. F. Berg. 



O 



HEAVEN— NOT FAR AWAY. 

H, Heaven is nearer than mortals think, 
When they look with trembling dread 

At the misty future that stretches on, 
From the silent home of the dead ! 

'Tis no lonely isle on a boundless main, 

No brilliant but distant shore, 
Where the lovely ones who are called away, 

Must go to return no more. 

No Heaven is near us ; the mighty veil 

Of mortality blinds the eye, 
That we can not see the angel bands 

On the shores of eternity. 

The eye that shuts in a dying hour, 

Will open the next in bliss ; 
The welcome will sound in the heavenly world 

Ere the farewell is hushed in this. 

We pass from the clasp of mourning friends, 
To the arms of the loved and lost ; 

And those smiling faces will greet us there, 
Which on earth we have valued most. 

Yet oft in the hours of holy thought, 

To the thirsting soul is given 
That power to pierce through the mist of sense, 

To the beauteous scenes of Heaven. 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 593 



M 



THE MOTHER AND HER DYING BOY. 

BOY. 

Y mother, my mother, O let me depart ! 

Your tears and your pleadings are swords to my heart ; 
I hear gentle voices, that chide my delay ; 
I see lovely visions that woo me away. 
My prison is broken, my trials are o'er ! 
And mother, my mother, detain me no more ! 



And will you then leave us, my brightest, my best ? 
And will you run nestling no more to my breast 
The summer is coming to sky and to bower ; 
The tree that you planted will soon be in flower, 
You loved the soft season of song and of bloom ; 
O, shall it return, and find you in the tomb ? 



Yes, mother, I loved in the sunshine to play, 
And talk with the birds and the blossoms all day ; 
But sweeter the songs of the spirits on high, 
And brighter the glories round God in the sky ; 
I see them, I hear them, they pull at my heart, 
My mother, my mother, O let me depart! 



do not desert us ! Our hearts will be drear, 
Our home will be lonely, when you are not here ; 
Your brother will sigh 'mid his playthings, and say, 

1 wonder dear William so long can delay : 

That foot like the wild wind, that glance like a star ? 
O what will this world be, when they are afar ? 



This world, dearest mother, O live not for this ; 
No, press on with me to the fulness of bliss ! 
And trust me, whatever bright fields I may roam, 
My heart will not wander from you and from home. 



594 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



Believe me still near you on pinions of love ; 
Expect me to hail you when soaring above. 



Well, go, my beloved ! The conflict is o'er ; 
My pleas are all selfish, I urge them no more ; 
Why chain your bright spirit down here to the clod, 
So thirsting for freedom, so ripe for its God ? 
Farewell then, farewell, till we meet at the Throne, 
Where love fears no parting, and tears are unknown ! 



glory ! O glory ! what music ! what light ! 
What wonders break in on my heart, on my sight. 

1 come, blessed spirits ! I hear you from high ; 
O frail, faithless nature, can this be to die ? 

So near ! what, so near to my Saviour and King ? 
O help me, ye angels, His glories to sing ! 



CHANGED. 

ND shall I e'er again thy features trace, 
k. Beloved friend ; thy lineaments review ? 

Yes : though the sunken eyes, and livid hue 
And lips comprest, have quenched each lively grace, 
Death's triumph ; still I recognize the face 

Which thine for many a year affection knew ; 

And what forbids, that, clothed with life anew, 
It still on memory's tablet holds its place ? — 
Tho' then thy cheek with deathless bloom be sheen, 

And rays of splendor wreathe thy sunlike brow 
That change I deem shall sever not between 

Thee and thy former self ; nor disallow 
That love's tried eyes discern thee through the screen 

Of glory then as of corruption now. 

— Bishop Mont. 



THE FUTURE LIFE. S9S 



O 



HEAVENLY RECOGNITION. 

FT weeping memory sits alone, 

Besides some grave at even : 
And calls upon some spirit flown, 
Oh say shall those on earth our own, 

Be ours again — in Heaven ? 

Amid these lone sepulchral shades, 
Where sleep our dear ones riven, 

Is not some lingering spirit near, 

To tell if those divided here, 
Unite and know — in Heaven ? 

Shall friends who o'er the waste of life, 

By the same storms are driven ; 
Shall they recount in realms of bliss, 
The fortunes and the tears of this, 

And love again — in Heaven ? 

When hearts, which have on earth been one, 

By ruthless death are riven : 
Why does the one which death has reft 
Drag off in grief the one that's left, 

If not to meet — in Heaven ? 

The warmest love on earth is still 

Imperfect when 'tis given ; 
But there's a purer clime above, 
Where perfect hearts in perfect love 

Unite: and this — is Heaven. 

If love on earth is but " in part," 

As light and shade at even : 
If sin doth plant a thorn between 
The truest hearts ; there is, I ween 

A perfect love — in Heaven 

Oh, happy world ! Oh glorious place ! 

Where all who are forgiven, 
Shall find their loved and lost below, 
And hearts, like meeting streams, shall flow 

For ever one — in Heaven. 



596 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



REUNION ABOVE. 

[F yon bright stars, which gem the night, 
Be each a blissful dwelling sphere, 
Where kindred spirits reunite 

Whom death hath torn asunder here, 
How sweet it were at once to die, 
To leave this blighted orb afar ; 
Mixt soul and soul to cleave the sky 
And soar away from star to star. 

But oh ! how dark, how drear, and lone, 

Would seem the brightest world of bliss, 
If wandering through each radiant one, 

We failed to find the loved of this ! 
If, there no more the ties shall twine 

Which Death's cold hand alone could sever, 
Ah, then those stars in mockery shine, 

More hateful as they shine forever ! 

It can not be — each hope, each fear, 

That lights the eye or clouds the brow, 
Proclaims there is a happier sphere, 

Than this bleak world that holds us now. 
There is a voice which sorrow hears, 

When heaviest weighs life's galling chain, 
'Tis Heaven that whispers — " Dry your tears, 

The pure in heart shall meet again." 

—Leggett. 



o 



OUR FIRST-BORN. 

UR first-born and our only babe bereft ! 

Too fair a flower was she for this rude earth ! 

The features of her beauteous infancy 

Have faded from me like a passing cloud, 

Or like the glories of an evening sky : 

And seldom hath my tongue pronounced her name 

Since she was summoned to a happier sphere 

But that dear love, so deeply wounded then, 

I in my soul with silent faith sincere 

Devoutly cherish till we meet again. 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 597 



GONE, BUT NOT LOST. 

SWEET bud of earth's wilderness, rifled and torn ! 
Fond eyes have wept o'er thee, fond hearts still will mourn; 
The spoiler hath come, with his cold withering breath, 
And the loved and the cherished lie silent in death. 

He felt not the burden and heat of the day ! 
He hath passed from this earth, and its sorrows, away, 
With the dew of the morning yet fresh on his brow ; — 
Sweet bud of earth's wilderness, where art thou now ? 

And oh ! do you question, with tremulous breath, 
Why the joy of your household lies silent in death ? 
Do you mourn round the place of your perishing dust ? 
Look onward and upward with holier trust ! 

Who cometh to meet him, with light on her brow? 
What angel form greets him so tenderly now ! 
'Tis the pure sainted mother, springs onward to bear 
The child of her love from this region of care ! 

She beareth him on to that realm of repose, 
Where no cloud ever gathers, no storm ever blows ; 
For the Saviour calls home to the mansions above, 
This frail trembling floweret in mercy and love. 

There shall he for ever, unchanged by decay, 
Beside the still waters and green pastures stray ; 
And there ye shall join him, with earth's ransomed host, 
Look onward and upward ! " he's gone — but not lost /" 

— Ellen Stone. 



A MOTHER'S LAMENT. 

[LOVED thee, daughter of my heart \ 
My child, I loved thee dearly ; 
And though we only met to part, — 
How sweetly ! how severely ! — 
Nor life nor death can sever 
My soul from thine forever. 



598 THE FUTURE. LIFE. 

Thy days, my little one, were few ; 

An angel's morning visit, 
That came and vanished with the dew, 

'Twas here — 'tis gone — where is it ? 
Yet did'st thou leave behind thee 
A clue for love to find thee. 

Sarah ! my last, my youngest love, 

The crown of every other ! 
Though thou art born in Heaven above, 

I am thine only Mother! 
Nor will affliction let me 
Believe thou canst forget me. 

Then — thou in Heaven and I on earth — . 

May this one hope delight us, 
That thou wilt hail my second birth, 

When death shall reunite us, 
Where worlds no more can sever 
Parent and child forever. 

— Montgomery. 



THE SAINTED DEAD. 

THE Sainted Dead ! they are our treasures ! Like the inheritance upon 
which they have entered, they are incorruptible, undefiled, and they 
fade not away, but are reserved in Heaven. 

Ho ! ye that would be rich — ye that seek for treasures — seek them 
not on earth. Earth yields only that which is mortal and perishable. That 
which dies seeks the earth, not that which lives. " Earth to earth, ashes to 
ashes, dust to dust" This our fathers have repeated, and this they have 
experienced. They die quickly, the flowers of earth. It rusts soon, the gold 
of earth. They fade surely, the gems of earth. They must perish, the 
foundations of earth — if not before, in the flames of the last fire. Ho ! ye 
that seek for treasures; they are our treasures — living treasures — the 
Sainted Dead. 

Let us look upward. That is the destiny of spirits. It is the earth 
which whirls and moves ; the heavens stand permanent and sure. While 
the earth grows hoary with age, while empires fall and nations die, while 
the habitations of the dead are becoming more than the habitations of the 
living, while all things around us change and fade, the Heavens still look 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 599 

down serene as of old upon this changing and restless earth. The stars 
which wink to us a loving " upward " — how changeless ! They are the same 
which Abraham and Job saw, and which, ages ago — 

" Gladdened, on their mountain tops, the hearts 
Of the Chaldean shepherds, till they poured 
Themselves in orisons." 

So calm, changeless, cheering, and loving are the saints in light. Not 
like the false, fading glare of earthly treasures is their pure and imperish- 
able radiance ; for they " shine as the brightness of the firmament and as 
the stars for ever and ever." They are our treasures — changeless and 
shining treasures — the Sainted Dead. 

"NOT LOST, BUT GONE BEFORE." 

Let us look up hopefully. " Not lost, but gone before." Lost only 
like the stars of morning that have faded into the light of a brighter 
Heaven. Lost to earth, but not to us. When the earth is dark, then the 
heavens are bright. When objects around us become indistinct and 
invisible in the shades of night, then objects above us are more clearly seen. 
So is the night of sorrow and mourning ; it settles down upon us like a 
lonely twilight at the grave of our friends ; but then already they shine on 
high. While we weep, they sing ! While they are with us on earth, they 
lie upon our hearts refreshingly, like the dew upon flowers ; when they 
disappear, it is by a power from above that has drawn them upward, and, 
though lost on earth, they still float in the skies. 

Like the dew that is absorbed from the flowers, they will not return 
to us ; but, like the flowers themselves, we will die, yet only to bloom again 
in the Eden above. Then those whom the heavens have absorbed, and 
removed from us, by the sweet attraction of their love, made holier and 
lovelier in light, will draw towards us again by a holy affinity, and rest on 
our hearts as before. They are our treasures — loving treasures — the Sainted 
Dead. 

LOVE IS ETERNAL. 

Let us look up joyfully. Love is eternal. When the light and smiles 
of earthly love seem to perish in the grave, then it is night on earth and 
gloomy. " The setting of a great hope is like the setting of the sun. The 
brightness of our life is gone. Shadows of evening fall around us, and the 
world seems but a dim reflection, itself a broader shadow. We look 
forward into the coming lonely night. The sord withdraws into itself. 
Then the stars arise, and the night is holy !" All is yet not dark. Heaven 



6oo THE FUTURE LIFE. 



kindles anew, across the sea of space, beacons of hope and promise. 
Though the flowers of love die in our hearts, they lose not their fragrance. 
The looks, the forms, the voices, the smiles of the dead are still with us. 
We feel their mysterious nearness. The remembrance of their kindness 
and love still teaches us to love them. 

Like the vase in which roses have once been distilled — 
You may break, you may ruin the vase if you will ; 
But the scent of the roses will hang round it still ! 

Their names are still to us " like ointment poured forth," the odor of 
which comes to us richest in our loneliest hours. Their image, lovely as 
the purest thoughts we can form of them, floats before our waking visions, 
and smiles upon us in the dreams of the night. Being themselves holy, 
the light of our love falling upon them becomes holy too. The heart 
gradually becomes like that which it loves. Purer than we are, our 
affections are purified by the power of their attractions, as the sides of all 
objects grow bright that are turned toward the sun. These are our 
treasures — holy treasures — the Sainted Dead. 

Let us look up longingly. Where our treasures are, there let our 
hearts be also. The heart of the miser is with his gold. The eye of the 
merchant follows his freighted vessel till it disappears in the dim, distant 
blue ; then looks often into the vacant air that hangs over the broad sea, 
for its return, till he sees at last its hopeful pennants streaming; and as it 
draws nearer, his heart grows fuller of grateful wonderment and hope. 
Now this they do for perishable gain. 

THAT WHICH PERISHES NOT. 

Let us do the same, yea more, for that which perishes not. If earthly 
treasures draw the heart so strongly, ought not heavenly treasures more ? 
Yea, but our hearts are so gross and grovelling, and feel so little the sweet 
attraction of the infinite and the pure. Let us long after them more 
ardently, our treasures — attractive treasures — the Sainted Dead. 

Let us look up lovingly. Love is stronger than all ills, and will 
crowd itself even through death. Love seeks and finds its object — dies, 
and yet dies not, in the pursuit. Under its guidance we shall find the 
objects of our affections; for it knows the homeward way. Come, ye 
living ! let us sit together under the moaning but ever-green cypress, and 
commune with the departed. Let us drive from our hearts Caesar's 
money-changers, and escape for a moment from the world's benumbing 
rattle. Let us draw softly down into the quiet border-land along the valley 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 601 

of the shadow of death. We will listen intently. The softest notes that 
float to our ears across the almost breathless solitude, shall tell us hopeful 
tales of a better land, and of those who dwell in it. We will cry earnestly 
into the hollow silence, which so holds the lip of Death's lethean Jordan, as 
to allow it scarce a whisper of sorrow or joy. The earnestness of our voice 
will bring back tidings to the ear of faith. We will seek them, our 
treasures — eternal treasures — the Sainted Dead. — H. Harbaugh. 



EARTHLY LOVE NEVER DIES. 

SOME tell us all earthly love must die 
Nor enter the heavenly land ; 
That friendship is lost above the sky 
'Midst the happy and joyous band. 
And can it be so? On that blissful shore 
Shall we meet the lov'd we have lost no more. 

They tell us that those unseen on earth 

Shall be dear as an only child ; 
And the mother belov'd who gave us birth, 

Shall be met as the savage wild ! 
And can it be so ? in that land of love, 
Are there no joys of reunion above? 

They tell us the pastor, who taught us the way 

To the blessed abode of the just, 
Shall know us no more in eternity's day, 

Tho' the body's redeem'd from the dust. 
And can it be so, in that world of bliss ? 
Shall we love less there than we do in this ? 

They tell us the martyr who fell on the : liore, 

'Mid the war-cry, and horror untold, 
Shall meet his lov'd flock with joy no more 

Than the merchant who traffics for gold. 
And will it be so, in that golden street 
Where Williams, and all he held dear, shall meet ? 

Is ignorance found in the spirit's home ? 
Is memory left in the dust ? 



6o2 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



Then shall we not feel that we stand alone 

As strangers among the just? 
And can it be so, in that city of light, 
Where love is unfading, and joy ever bright? 

Is darkness found in that cloudless sky 

Veiling the life just pass'd : 
Forgotten the friends who saw us die 

All faithful and true to the last ? 
And can it be so ? — Shall we meet no more 
When this feverish dream of life is o'er ? 

Then where is the pastor's " crown of joy," 
And where the reward of the saint's employ ? 
And why do we cherish this restless love, 
If all will be lost or forgotten above ? 
Oh ! can it be thus, — in that blissful place 
Where we see the redeem'd ones face to face ? 



KNOWLEDGE OF EACH OTHER IN HEAVEN. 

1 COUNT the hope no day-dream of the mind, 
No vision fair of transitory hue, 

The souls of those, whom once on earth we knew, 
And lov'd and walk'd with in communion kind, 
Departed hence, again in Heaven to find. 

Such hope to Nature's sympathies is true ; 

And such, we deem, the holy Word to view 
Unfolds ; an antidote for grief designed, 
One drop from comfort's well. 'Tis true we read 

The Book of Life : but if we read amiss. 
By God prepared fresh treasures shall succeed 

To kinsmen, fellows, friends, a vast abyss 
Of joy; nor ought the longing spirit need 

To fill its measure of enormous bliss. 

— Bis/top Mant. 

All love believes in a double immortality — in its own, and in that 
of the object it loves. When love once fears that it may cease, it has 
already ceased. It is all the same to our hearts whether the beloved one 
fades away or only his love. — Jean Paul. 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 603 



AN INDIAN MOTHER'S LOVE. 

THE following' affecting verses are a verification of the Scriptural declara- 
tion : " Love is strong as Death." 
Os-he-ouh-mai, the wife of Little Wolf, one of the Iowa Indians, died 
while at Paris, of an affection of the lungs, brought on by grief for the death 
of her young child in London. Her husband was unremitting in his 
endeavours to console and restore her to the love of life ; but she constantly 
replied — "No! no! my four children recall me. I see them by the side of 
the Great Spirit. They stretch out their arms to me, and are astonished 
that I do not join them." 

No ! no ! I must depart 
From earth's pleasant scenes, for they but wake 
Those thrilling memories of the lost which shake 

The life-sands from my heart. 

Why do ye bid me stay ? 
Should the rose linger when the young buds die, 
Or the tree nourish when the branches lie 

Stricken by sad decay? 

Doth not the parent dove, 
When her young nurslings leave their lowly home 
And soar on joyous wings to Heaven's blue dome, 

Fly the deserted grove ? 

Why then should I remain ? 
Have I not seen my sweet-voiced warblers soar, 
So far away that Love's fond wiles no more 

May lure them back again ? 

They can not come to me ; 
But I may go to them — and as the flower 
Awaits the dewy eve, I wait the hour 

That sets my spirit free. 

Hark ! heard ye not a sound 
Sweeter than wild-bird's note or minstrel's lay ? 
I know that music well, for night and day 

I hear it echoing round. 



604 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



It is the tuneful chime 
Of spirit voices ! — 'tis my infant band 
Calling the mourner from this darkened land 

To joy's unclouded clime. 

My beautiful, my blest ! 
I see them there, by the Great Spirit's throne ; 
With winning words and fond beseeching tone 

They woo me to my rest. 

They chide my long delay, 
And wonder that I linger from their home ; 
They stretch their loving arms to bid me come 

Now would ye have me stay ? 

— E. S. S. 



NOT AN AIRY SPECULATION. 

IT has been asked whether, in this blessed abode, the saints will know one 
another? One should think that the question was unnecessary, as the 
answer naturally presents itself to every man's mind ; and it could only 
have occurred to some dreaming theologian, who, in his airy speculations, 
has soared far beyond the sphere of reason and common sense. Who can 
doubt whether the saints will know one another? What reason can be 
given why they should not ? Would it be any part of their perfection to 
have all their former ideas obliterated, and to meet as strangers in the other 
world? Would it give us a more favorable notion of the assembly in 
Heaven, to suppose it to consist of a multitude of unknown individuals, who 
never hold communication with each other; or by some inexplicable 
restraint are prevented, amidst an intimate intercourse, from mutual 
discoveries ? Or have they forgotten what they themselves were, so that 
they can not reveal it to their associates ? What would be gained by this 
ignorance no man can tell; but we can tell what would be lost by it. They 
would lose all the happiness of meeting again on the peaceful shore, those 
from whom they were separated by the storms of life ; of seeing among the 
trophies of Divine grace many of whom they had despaired, and for whose 
sakes they had gone down with sorrow to the grave ; of knowing the good 
which they had been honored to do, and being surrounded with the 
individuals who had been saved by means of their prayers and instructions 
and labors. How could those whom he had been the instrument of 
converting and building up in the holy faith be to the minister of the 



THE FUTURE LIFE. 605 



Gospel a crown of joy and rejoicing in the day of the Lord, if he did not 
recognize them when standing at his side ? The saints will be free from 
the turbulence of passion, but innocent affections will remain : and could 
they spend eternal ages without asking, Are our children here? Are our 
still dearer relatives here? Have our friends, with whom we took sweet 
counsel together, found their way to this country, to which we travelled in 
company till death parted us ? — John Dick. 



REUNION IN HEAVEN. 

AT a feast given oy Cyrus the Persian to the chief officers of his army, 
he gave to some of them costly gifts ; to one a splendid garment ; to 
another a golden cup ; but Chrysantes, his favorite friend, he merely drew 
to himself and kissed him. So, at the heavenly reunion banquet, not the 
white robe, not the harp or the crown of gold will be most prized, but the • 
privilege of sitting down at the table of our Lord and receiving the token 
of His approval, and hearing from His own lips the assurance of His love. 
To that banquet will be summoned not only the pious friends whom we 
have known and loved on earth, but 

" The saints of all ages shall in harmony meet, 
Their Saviour, their brethren transported to greet." 

Jesus says, " Many shall come." They shall come from all dispensa- 
tions, from all climes, all ages, all countries ; from the East, West, North, 
and South, and shall sit down in the kingdom of Heaven — sit down as the 
warrior when the battle is won ; as the laborer when the toil is over ; or as 
the pilgrim when the journey is ended. 

How we shall come to know the distinguished worthies in that most 
glorious of all assemblages, whether by intuition or by angelic presentation, is 
of but little moment, only so that we know them. But know them we shall, 
and their deeds of moral heroism, and their fidelity to Christ and His cause . 
shall also be made known, and that they " came out of great tribulation and ij 
washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb." A 
converted Indian once said to a visiting missionary, as he was about to leave 
the mission : " Turn around, thou man of God, that I may see your face 
once more, so that I shall know you in Heaven." That poor red man little 
thought how many myriads of acquaintances he should make among the 
glorified in Heaven whom he never knew on earth. 



6o6 THE FUTURE LIFE. 



Oh, think for a moment, my brethren, who will be the guests at that 
banquet, each contributing his portion to its holy and glorious - social 
delights; who shall undertake to estimate the pleasure and profit of 
conversing freely with Him who was the first to enter Heaven ; with Him 
who, in the midst of antediluvian giants, walked with God ; with him who 
passed out of the ark on Mount Ararat, built the first altar in the solitude 
of a depopulated world, and gazed on its first bow of promise ; with him 
who built an altar on Mount Moriah, and with him who was laid an offering 
thereon ; with him who put off his shoes before the burning bush, and for 
forty days and forty nights on Mount Sinai conversed familiarly with God 
in the thick cloud that was on the Mount ! Oh, what will be the luxury of 
listening to the Sweet Singer, of Israel as he strikes his heavenly lyre, and 
engaging in conversation with all the holy men of old who spake as they 
were moved by the Holy Ghost ; hang on the lips of the first ambassadors 
of Christ narrating their conflicts, their trials, and their success, as they 
went everywhere, in the midst of trials and death, preaching Jesus and the 
Resurrection ! 

DISTINGUISHED GUESTS. 

But the distinguished guests in that assembly are not limited to 
Scripture characters. Around that board are gathered the Christian fathers, 
and there also sit the noble band of martyrs and confessors, the great 
reformers, whose achievements under God have been great for the 
establishment of Christ's Kingdom and the elevation of our race. And who 
of us will not esteem that banquet the more desirable since there we may 
sit down with such men as Wesley and Whitfield and Chalmers, with 
Asbury, McKendree and Emory, with George, Fisk, Hedding, and Olin, and 
an innumerable host of distinguished men of God, who in our own day have 
gone up from the Church militant to the Church triumphant. 

To gain a seat at that banquet, God grant that we may never esteem 
any sacrifices too great. 

" Oh, what are all our sufferings here, 
If, Lord, Thou count us meet 
With that enraptured host to appear, 
And worship at thy feet!" 

O God, bring us together there for Jesus' sake. Amen. — R. Nelson. 



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